


A Different Story

by orphan_account



Series: If I Die Young [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Forced Prostitution, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of alcoholism, Pining Combeferre, Pining Courfeyrac, Suicidal Thoughts, mentions of off-screen non-con, mentions of off-screen violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1767958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras held out a hand to him and Courfeyrac hesitantly took it, feeling the enormity of the action all the way down to his bones. The last time he had trusted an alpha, he had ended up defiled and about to be married to a man who only wanted his body. He didn’t really think Enjolras could be any worse than that.</p><p>And the bridge would always be there for him if he was wrong.</p><p>(AU of If I Die Young. Courfeyrac is saved by Enjolras instead of Grantaire. Can be read without reading If I Die Young though :) )</p><p>(No longer discontinued - new chapter posted)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was eating my brain and had to be let out.
> 
> First half of the first chapter is taken straight from the first chapter of If I Die Young.

_Grantaire watched from the upstairs window as Pierre’s sheet-swaddled body was taken out the back door of Patron-Minette by two of the Thenardiers’ men. He felt sick as he watched them continue on to the field behind the property, knowing they were headed towards the deep hole dug yesterday in anticipation of Pierre’s death._

_One day, that would be him._

_He turned away and retreated to the corner he had claimed for his sleeping mat. He was already eighteen. How many years did he have left? The average age of first heat was twenty five, but Pierre had only been twenty three. He had tried to write the signs off as the flu, but the Thenardiers had known. Grantaire could tell by their shark-like smiles that they had known._

_And they had locked him in a room when it hit and sold him to as many alphas as possible. And they had no shortage of willing customers._

_It disgusted Grantaire to know there were so many alphas willing to pay out the nose for the chance to fuck an omega in heat, even knowing that the omega would be dead before the heat ended. Disgusted him, but did not surprise him. After all, they were the same alphas who would pay to fuck an omega before their first heat, knowing the chances of a defiled omega finding a bondmate were slim to none._

_And omegas didn’t survive their first heat without bonding, a point hammered home to Grantaire by the body that was just carried out of the brothel to be disposed of as if he were no more than a sack of garbage._

_Grantaire set his jaw in determination, staring out the window in decision. If he was doomed to die, he definitely wasn’t going to spend his last years as the Thenardiers’ whore._

_He was getting out of here even if it killed him. One way or another, he was getting out._

_#_

_Courfeyrac stared at the seventeen-year-old omega staring back at him in the mirror. The dark circles under his lifeless brown eyes contrasted sharply with the flashy white and gold wedding garments his mother had chosen for him. His dark curls, though shining brightly from the special shampoo meant to mask his true scent, hung listless beneath the gaudy gold circlet placed on his head._

_Perhaps his parents thought that if they covered him in enough finery then no one would question if they caught a whiff of something odd in his scent, he thought bitterly._

_He shouldn’t be so bitter, he knew. This was really his fault. If he hadn’t been so stupid, maybe he wouldn’t have fallen for Andre’s pretty words of love and forever. He really shouldn’t have been surprised when the alpha had disappeared as soon summer was over, leaving him defiled and ruined in the eyes of society._

_His parents would tell him that he should be grateful that they had arranged this marriage so quickly. Never mind that his future husband was nearly forty years older than him and was really only after the dowry his parents were providing. Well, it probably wasn’t the only thing he was after, he corrected himself with a shudder._

_But his parents were happy. Courfeyrac was to be married off to a wealthy man with a respectable name and his act of indiscretion would no longer be their problem._

_What did it matter to them if Courfeyrac was sure that he would never be able to love his soon-to-be husband?_

_Love wasn’t strictly necessary for a bond to form, but the possibility had to be there. Courfeyrac had heard numerous tales about omegas who had died during their heat because they were forced into loveless marriages. That was precisely why marriage contracts were outlawed._

_Of course, this had been anticipated by all parties, and his parents had agreed with his fiancé that Courfeyrac would see a fertility doctor in order to be impregnated before his heat came on._

_Which really meant that it might not even matter if he would be able to bond with his husband during his heat. The procedures used to impregnate an omega before heat were dangerous, and the resulting pregnancies extremely high risk._

_Not that Courfeyrac was meant to know any of this. Omegas weren’t supposed to be well-learned. They were meant to be trophies, nothing more. They weren’t supposed to be educated, and they definitely weren’t supposed to be employed. Really, Courfeyrac didn’t have much of a choice in whether to go through with this marriage. What else could he do?_

_He started at the thought, brown eyes finally showing some spark. Had he actually been considering not going through with the marriage?_

_A fearful excitement raced through him at the thought. He could do it. He had enough cash on hand to get by for at least a couple weeks, having been given it for pocket money on his honeymoon. Hell, he was already packed. All he had to do was grab his suitcase and walk out the front door. No one would question him. No one would see him. Everyone would be out back, waiting for his grand entrance._

_He could purchase some black market scent-masking shampoo. Not the kind his parents had used to make him smell like an un-defiled omega, but one that would disguise him as a beta. He could get a job. He could live his life the way he wanted to live it._

_A life that wouldn’t last very long._

_But his life here only had a slight chance of lasting longer. Shouldn’t his remaining life at least be as happy as he could make it?_

_Steeling his nerves, his quickly stripped out of his wedding clothes, throwing the gold circlet and all the jewelry in his room in a knapsack with his money on a whim, figuring he may be able to pawn it when his funds ran low._

_He grabbed his suitcase and knapsack and walked out the door without a second glance._

_#_

_Leaving Patron-Minette hadn’t been easy. It had taken him months to gather enough funds to get buy. He pickpocketed as much from his clients as he dared, not wanting to take so much that they would miss the cash. In the end, it hadn’t nearly been enough and he was far too impatient to leave to bother with being subtle. He had waited until midday when everyone was sleeping and had snuck into the Thenardiers’ office._

_Getting into the safe was easy. He had seen Monsieur Thenardier open it a while back and had remembered the combination. He didn’t feel guilty taking the money. It had been made by selling his and other omegas’ bodies, using them up until there was literally nothing left. Taking it was only doling out justice._

_He had carefully locked the safe back and left as quickly as he could, hoping to be as far away as possible before the theft was noticed._

_They would hunt him, he knew, but they would be looking for an omega, likely searching the streets for unspoken-for prostitutes. After all, what other jobs were there for omegas like him? And there were very few dealers who would sell a defiled omega a scent-disguising shampoo._

_Thankfully, he had someone he could go to in order to beg for help._

_Admittedly, Eponine wasn’t thrilled to see him on her doorstep. But then, Eponine was never really thrilled to see anyone. She was especially not happy to see him, though, because it meant her parents’ thugs might not be far behind him._

_“I need help, Ep,” he pleaded, not nearly too proud to beg. “Please. I don’t have long left. Won’t you help a dying man out?”_

_She glared before she rolled her eyes, demeanor softening slightly. “You can stay the night and I’ll get you some scent-dampeners, but I want you gone by tomorrow night.”_

_It was more than he expected, and it saved him the money it would have taken for a cheap motel room for the night. Once his scent was disguised, he could get his own shampoo. He’d get a job and stay at a motel until he could afford an apartment. He would be alright._

_He would._

_For a few years, at least._

_#_

_This was a terrible idea, he thought as he sat with his head in his hands on the crummy motel mattress. His funds were quickly depleting and he had yet to find a contact that would help him get something to mask his scent._

_Well, there had been the one guy who seemed willing, but the price that went unspoken in the leer he had given him was far more than Courfeyrac was willing to be._

_He still had the jewelry that he could sell, if he could find a buyer willing to buy from an omega like him. The money from that could hold him over until he was able to find a dealer. Then he could disguise himself as a beta and get a job. He just had to be a little more patient._

_God, who was he kidding? No one was going to sell scent-disguisers to a defiled omega. From what he could tell, most of those that dealt in such illicit items were in league with the pimps who made money from omegas like him. They weren’t going to sell to someone obviously either trying to avoid or escape that lifestyle._

_Maybe he should just go back home. His parents or ex-fiancé would probably find him anyway once he pawned his jewelry. He was sure they had spun some fanciful tale of him falling ill or something and merely postponed the wedding. Admitting he had run would only make them lose face._

_A tear ran down his cheek as he realized his choice was between whoring himself out on the streets for money or becoming the kept-whore to a man three times his age, and neither came with a very long life expectancy._

_He shook his head forcefully as he stood, tears running unchecked down his cheeks. He wasn’t going to choose either. If he was going to die, it would be in a manner of his own choosing._

_He would not live a life riddled with inescapable cruelty._

_He’d rather die._

#

Enjolras sighed as he looked down at the paper in his hand before leaning over the railing to look at the dark, rushing water far below. He was tempted to just throw the stupid thing in the river. His professor’s criticisms glared at him from the paper, each one cutting him probably deeper than it should.

He knew he was a bit of a perfectionist, but a B+ really was unacceptable. What really galled him, though, was that most of the criticisms weren’t even about his _writing_ but rather his _ideas_ , mainly because they didn’t align with _his_.

He scowled at the comments on the last page.

_“Your writing is good, but your grasp of the topic seems to be lacking. More research next time will improve your grade.”_

In a fit of anger, he balled the paper up and threw it as far as he could into the roaring water below. He smiled as it sailed downwards before being taken as soon as it hit the currents. Combeferre would shake his head in amusement at the act once he told him of it, but he didn’t care. It was freeing to just toss his problems over the bridge.

A slight shaking of the railing jarred him from his thoughts and a low sob had him looking up.

A slight, curly haired boy was leaning over the railing several yards away from him.

Enjolras breath caught in his throat as he saw the despair and intent written plainly on the other’s face. He closed the distance between them quickly and silently, hoping not to startle him into doing something rash. As he drew closer, he caught the boy’s scent.

Omega. Not a virgin.

Enjolras eyes closed for a moment to curse society, the same society that had let his Aunt Fantine just die. Well, they would not kill this boy. Not today. Not ever.

#

Courfeyrac stared down at the dark water far, _far_ below and tried to gather his resolve once more. This was his only real escape. There was nothing left in this world for him but pain and heartache. He was going to die anyway. He might as well spare himself the suffering.

His hands shook as he set them more firmly against the railing in order to climb over.

“Please don’t,” a soft voice said as a hand settled over one of his shaking ones. He looked up, startled as he met pleading blue eyes and a strong scent of _alpha_.

He jumped backwards, hitting one of the pillars that rose from the bridge’s railing and clinging to it desperately, pressing his back against the stone and eying the alpha suspiciously.

The only alphas that had given him attention not laced with contempt lately did not have very good intentions.

He should have jumped when he had the chance.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I swear,” the alpha said earnestly. “But don’t throw you life away. You have other options.”

Courfeyrac gave a half-laugh, half sob. “The only options I have involve being someone else’s whore and living a few more years in misery. This seems like the better choice.”

“You don’t have to go back to whoever or whatever drove you to this,” he assured. “You can come home with me! You can stay as long as you’d like. Just please, don’t kill yourself.”

“Do you think being your kept whore will be any better?” he snapped angrily, hating every alpha in that moment. The ones that had ignored him. The ones who treated him as a possession. The ones who saw him only as an object of sexual pleasure.

The one who had taken everything from him and left him to die.

He hadn’t realized he was crying until the alpha’s strong arms wrapped around him. He tried to twist away, but he didn’t have the energy.

“Shh,” the other man said soothingly, rubbing his back in comfort. “No one is going to hurt you ever again, _especially_ not me, okay? No will touch you in any way you don’t want. Just please, give me a chance to help you? The bridge will always be here if it doesn’t get better. But I promise you it will.”

He looked up at the alpha. With his angular face framed by golden curls, he looked almost like an angel to Courfeyrac.

He wanted to believe him. He _didn’t_ want to die, but he didn’t really have much of a reason to live. Maybe this alpha would be different. Surely not _all_ alphas could be bad? He _wanted_ to trust him.

But Hell had angels as well, and he was afraid.

He didn’t really have much to lose though, he realized. And like the alpha said, the bridge would always be here.

“Alright,” he said warily, stepping out of the alpha’s embrace and giving him a forced smile. “I’ll give you a chance.”

He breathed a smile of relief and smiled down at him. “I’m Enjolras. What’s your name?”

“Courfeyrac.”

Enjolras beamed at him. “I swear to you, Courfeyrac, you will not regret this.”

Enjolras held out a hand to him and Courfeyrac hesitantly took it, feeling the enormity of the action all the way down to his bones. The last time he had trusted an alpha, he had ended up defiled and about to be married to a man who only wanted his body. He didn’t really think Enjolras could be any _worse_ than that.

He let the blond lead him to a nicer area of town near where he knew the university was. He frowned as he looked around, growing more nervous by the minute. People who knew his parents and fiancé would be in an area like this. What would he do if they found him?

The apartment Enjolras led him to was large and open, with large windows that Courfeyrac knew would let in a wealth of sunlight during the day. It was decorated tastefully, if a little utilitarian. Everything in it seemed to have a function, a purpose, and there was very little clutter to be seen.

“We have a guestroom,” Enjolras said, as he shut the door. “It’s full of the books that won’t fit in Combeferre and my rooms, but it has a bed and it’s yours for as long as you want it.”

“Combeferre?” Courfeyrac asked, wondering if he were really as free to leave as Enjolras said. What was he thinking coming here?

“My roommate,” Enjolras answered. “He had to go home for the weekend. His cousin is getting married, but he’ll be back Sunday night.”

“And how will he feel about me being here?” he said nervously, wanting to ask what his secondary gender was, but feeling brave enough.

“He won’t mind,” Enjolras replied, sounding sure of himself. “Just so you know, he’s an alpha as well, but please don’t let that worry you. Neither of us will let any harm come to you, and we’re going to help you as much as you’ll let us.”

He really didn’t see how anyone could help him, or why they would even want to, but he gave Enjolras a wan smile anyway. “Should you really be speaking for your roommate?” he asked instead. “He may not be too thrilled with acquiring a freeloader in his apartment.”

“Don’t worry about Combeferre,” Enjolras said with a smile. “He would never turn you away.”

#

“Have you lost your senses?” Combeferre asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he lay in his childhood bed. “You know nothing about this boy! How could you let him into our apartment? What if he murders you in your sleep?”

“’Ferre, he was going to _kill himself_ ,” Enjolras hissed over the phone. Combeferre’s stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought, but that didn’t stop him from worrying about his best friend.

“That just shows how desperate he is!” he pointed out. “I know you want to help him and I understand that, I do too, but do you really think either of us is equipped to help him?”

Enjolras sighed. “If not us, then who?” he asked quietly. “No one else seems to _care_. If I hadn’t stopped him, he would have thrown himself off that bridge and no one would have thought twice about him. Just another defiled omega who brought everything down on himself. It’s not _right_!”

“I know it isn’t,” Combeferre agreed. “But we can’t change the world.”

Enjolras was silent for a moment.

“Yes, we can.”

Tbc…


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to let you all know how much your comments mean to me! You have no idea how happy I am when I check my email during the work day and see that someone has commented on my writing :)

Enjolras tried very hard to be awake and alert the next morning to cook his new guest. He half-succeeded. He blinked blurrily as he slowly stirred the scrambled eggs. The loud beeping of the microwave startled him so much that he nearly upset the frying pan. He swore loudly and quickly grabbed the pan’s handle and steadied it.

“Do you need help?” an amused voice asked.

He looked up and smiled to see the spark of life in the omega’s face, something that had been missing in his previous interactions with him.

“I think I managed to save the eggs,” he replied seriously, poking the fluffy yellow bits with the spatula. “And I think breakfast is ready.”

He took two plates from the cabinet and scooped eggs on to each, being sure to load Courfeyrac’s plate with a good two-thirds of them. The omega looked half-starved to him. He took the bacon out of the microwave and divvied it up between the two plates, again making sure that Courfeyrac got a larger portion.

He turned around and frowned as he saw Courfeyrac still hovering awkwardly a couple feet from the kitchen island. He bit the inside of his lip, not really sure what the best way to go about making the omega comfortable.

He wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t good at putting people at ease. Combeferre was better. Why couldn’t Combeferre be here?

Combeferre wouldn’t be standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, holding two plates of food, just looking awkwardly at the omega staring awkwardly back at him.

Courfeyrac was the one to crack first, smile slowly creeping over his face before he let out a loud laugh. Enjolras felt his lips curve upwards almost involuntarily and he was laughing as well. They kept chuckling to themselves even as Enjolras led him to the table and set the plates of food down.

“You know, it’s hard to be nervous around you when you look just as frightened of me,” Courfeyrac commented as he sat down across from him, smile still on his face.

Enjolras frowned and gave him a pained look. “I don’t want to make you nervous,” he said earnestly. “I want you to be comfortable. I… just want to help you,” he finished lamely, looking down at his eggs.

“Why?” the omega asked quietly, causing Enjolras to look up and meet his eyes. “Why do you care? I mean, okay, you’re a nice guy, but that’s no reason to open your home to me. You don’t even know me.”

“No one should ever have to be in your situation,” Enjolras said fiercely. “Society insists on holding omegas to an archaic standard, which leads way too many of them to their deaths. When I saw you about to become another victim of that society, I couldn’t do nothing.”

Courfeyrac was quiet for a while, poking at his eggs and nibbling at his bacon. Enjolras took the moment to observe the smaller man. Like all omegas, he was short, with dark curly hair and bright brown eyes. The clothes he was wearing was of a high quality.

That meant that people would likely be looking for him, he thought darkly. And if jumping off a bridge was more appealing than being found by his family, Enjolras would die before he let them take him away.

“I didn’t—don’t want to die,” Courfeyrac said finally, closing his eyes as a tear fell down his cheek. “I made a mistake. I know that,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes and wiping tears away roughly. “I was stupid, but I really thought he loved me,” he finished bitterly.

“And if you were an alpha or beta, society wouldn’t condemn you to death for being wrong,” Enjolras pointed out.

“But it’s not really society that’s condemning me to death, is it?” he said with a wry smirk. “Biology will do that on its own.”

“Only because society tells alphas that non-virginal omegas are less desirable.”

“Non-virginal?” he snorted. “You don’t have to soften your words for me. I know I’m defiled.”

“No, you’re not!” Enjolras snapped vehemently. “That word makes you sound dirty and unworthy and is just another tool society uses to subjugate omegas.”

He winced as he realized how harsh his words sounded. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Courfeyrac just laughed at him.

“You’re not one to keep your thoughts to yourself, are you?” he asked in amusement.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I don’t have much of a filter. I doubt I would have made it anywhere if Combeferre wasn’t around to keep me from putting my foot in my mouth all the time.”

Courfeyrac bit his lip. “Was he angry when you told him I was here?” he asked hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to listen in to your call!” he said in a rush. “I just… was afraid.”

Enjolras gave him an understanding smile. Alone in an apartment with a strange alpha? He didn’t blame Courfeyrac at all for eavesdropping.

“It’s okay,” he assured. “And he wants to help you too. He just worries about me,” he said with a fond smile. “We grew up together, and since he’s a year older and I’m, well, _me_ , he’s always looked out for me. He didn’t want me to be murdered in my sleep.”

“Well, I can promise not to do that,” he replied with a shaky smile.

“Combeferre will be reassured.”

They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence. When they were done, Enjolras took both plates to the sink and rinsed them before placing them in the dishwasher.

“I never thanked you,” Courfeyrac said, leaning against the counter and watching him. “For saving my life, I mean. I’ve never met an alpha like you before. Then again, I guess I haven’t seen much of the world. Stupid, huh, to throw away my life before knowing what I was throwing away?”

“Well, you have another chance now,” Enjolras said seriously.

Courfeyrac gave him a smile. “Then I guess I should make it count.”

Enjolras smiled back at him. “And I’ll help you in any way I can.”

His grin turned mischievous, then. “Enjolras,” he said. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Enjolras blinked in surprise before groaning in exasperation. Courfeyrac cackled as the alpha rolled his eyes.

He could already tell that life with Courfeyrac would be interesting.

#

It was hard to be apprehensive around Enjolras. The first night may have been a bit nerve-wracking. But anyone would have been on edge after literally being talked off the edge, and Enjolras at the time had seemed more intimidating than anything else. Courfeyrac kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. No alpha had ever been kind to him without an ulterior motive. He was just a lowly omega, after all.

But once you got past the righteous exterior, Enjolras was had an almost endearing social awkwardness about him. Honestly, Courfeyrac felt like he had made the alpha more anxious than the he made him.

However, they were quickly moving past the awkwardness, mostly due to Courfeyrac’s efforts. He knew Enjolras was trying, and that made it easier to get comfortable with the alpha, easier to be himself.

Of course, he wasn’t even sure who that person was.

All his life, he had been whatever the people he was around wanted him to be. For his parents, he was the obedient omega child, seen but not heard, the perfect little doll to parade about at parties. To alphas in his parents’ circle, he was an object to be appreciated and, sometimes, leered at. To betas, he barely even existed.

The other omegas he knew growing up weren’t like him. They seemed to _enjoy_ the way they were treated. Courfeyrac had chafed under it.

But with Enjolras, he could relax. The alpha didn’t expect anything from him, didn’t want anything from him. That idea was both novel and exciting.

Which made Courfeyrac determined to be friends with him, especially since it was his first opportunity to have a real friend.

And after he had managed to put Enjolras at ease, an odd notion considering the alpha had been trying exceptionally hard to put _him_ at ease, they had managed to learn a good deal about each other.

Enjolras had been quite honest with him. Courfeyrac was pretty sure the blond, in his zeal to help him, would have told him any secret he had asked for, whether it was his first crush or his bank account number. Lucky for him, Courfeyrac was just interested in who he was.

He had learned that the alpha had just begun his first year at the university, majoring in political science, with plans to enter law school after earning his bachelors. His roommate, Combeferre, had been his best friend since they were both very young, and was in the second year of his pre-med program.

Of course, none of that had explained _why_ he had taken in a desperate omega without knowing anything about him.

“My mother’s younger sister was an omega,” he had explained. “They were very close. When I was little, she was always over. My father worked long hours and wasn’t home a lot, you see. I remember thinking when I was really young that I had two mothers and no father.” He had chuckled fondly at that, a soft expression on his face that Courfeyrac was sure very few people ever got to see.

“She married young, when she was around twenty I think, but her husband died in car crash a few months after they were married. After that, everyone treated her like a pariah,” he said angrily, jaw clenching at the memory. “I was too young to understand it was because her scent had changed because she had slept with her husband. She practically lived with us after that. She lasted longer than most, but she died when I was thirteen. She was only twenty eight. Other than Combeferre, she was the only friend I ever had.”

Courfeyrac had not even tried to restrain himself and threw his arms around Enjolras in a tight hug. “You’ve got one more now,” he had said fervently.

After hearing Enjolras’ story, it was only fair that he told his own. When he got to the arranged marriage, Enjolras had looked incensed.

“But that’s illegal!” he had cried.

He had just laughed humorlessly at that. “No one cares when the omega is defiled. After all, we’re dead anyway.”

“Well you’re not going to die,” he had promised, a determined gleam in his eyes. “I’m not going to let you. If I have to bond with you myself, you’re going to live.”

Courfeyrac had laughed genuinely at that. “Enjolras, I think you and I are going to be very good friends, but let’s not spoil that by talking about bonding,” he had replied. “I’m only seventeen. I have years yet to worry about that.”

Frankly, he didn’t think he and Enjolras would work well as a couple. From the little he knew about the alpha, Courfeyrac could already tell that Enjolras needed someone to challenge him. While Courfeyrac, well, he was self-aware enough to know that he needed someone to keep him grounded and to take care of him. Enjolras, no matter how great of a friend he was sure to be, was hardly grounded enough himself to provide that.

Still, it was nice of Enjolras to offer, even if Courfeyrac would never take him up on it.

#

Combeferre braced himself as he walked through the door. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect. He hadn’t heard another word from Enjolras since Friday night. For all he knew, the strange omega he had taken in had murdered him in his sleep.

So it was strange to hear Enjolras _laughing_ as he approached the living room.

“I am sure you are cheating,” an unknown voice said.

He stood dumbfounded in the entrance, just watching as the blond alpha grinned triumphantly as surveyed the cards laid out on the coffee table before him. He couldn’t see the face of the omega sitting across from him, but by the tone of his voice when he accused his friend of cheating, Combeferre was sure he was pouting.

“Combeferre!” Enjolras exclaimed, finally noticing his presence and getting up to greet him with a hug.

Combeferre returned the hug, smiling fondly at the man he considered his brother. He seemed more… relaxed. No, that wasn’t the right word. More… something, he decided, not really able to put his finger on the word. But it looked good on him.

Did just a couple days with this strange omega create this change in Enjolras?

“This is Courfeyrac,” Enjolras said, quick to introduce him to his new friend.

The omega smiled nervously at him, tense where he was relaxed before with just Enjolras. Combeferre didn’t take it personally. The boy had obviously been through a lot in his short life. Why else would he have been ready to throw himself off a bridge? And if he was able to make Enjolras laugh, something only he and Fantine had ever seemed able to accomplish, then Combeferre was certainly going to be courteous to him.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said with a soft smile. “I hope Enjolras hasn’t been driving you too crazy.”

Courfeyrac’s smile became more genuine, and Combeferre could not help but notice how beautiful it made his face.

 _Stop it_ , he told himself fiercely, knowing that that was exactly the type of thinking the omega did _not_ need from him.

“He’s been a perfect host, after I made him comfortable,” came the sly reply.

Enjolras looked affronted and then a little dismayed. “I was supposed to be making _you_ feel comfortable,” he said ruefully.

“You’re a very passionate person,” Courfeyrac assured him. “Which helped you to talk me off a bridge, but you’re not very good at the whole social interaction thing.”

Combeferre chuckled at that. “Two days and he already has you figured out,” he teased.

“Some friend you are,” he muttered, pouting at Combeferre.

“So what are your plans?” Combeferre asked Courfeyrac, sitting down in the armchair and ignoring Enjolras for the moment. “I’m sure Enjolras has told you you’re welcome to stay here, but I doubt he told you that you are also welcome to leave.”

“He did neglect to tell me that, but I figured it out on my own,” the omega quipped before turning serious. “I am very grateful to him for letting me stay, and I really don’t have anywhere to go, but I don’t want to stay if it will make you uncomfortable.”

Combeferre’s heart ached. Courfeyrac was looking at him as if he thought it would be perfectly reasonable for Combeferre to kick him out just because he may be inconvenienced by his presence. It made the alpha want to wrap his arms around the slighter man and tell him he never had to leave.

He managed to restrain himself though.

“I want you to stay,” he was quick to reply. “Anyone who can draw a laugh out of Enjolras is welcome to stay as long as they’d like. But what would you like to _do_?” he asked seriously. “It’s definitely no trouble for us to support you. We both have very generous trust funds and the apartment is paid for, but I can understand if you would like some independence.”

Courfeyrac bit his lip in consideration. “I couldn’t get a job. No one will hire an unbonded omega,” he said finally.

It was true, Combeferre knew, especially an unbonded _defiled_ omega.

“We could disguise your scent?” he suggested.

“No,” Enjolras said emphatically. “We are not going to have him hide like he is something that he should be ashamed of.”

“Enjolras, you know I don’t think that,” he replied with an exasperated sigh. “And I agree that he shouldn’t _have_ to hide, but this is about what _he_ wants.”

Enjolras looked properly chastised before turning to Courfeyrac for an answer.

The omega looked between both of them, looking distressed that he had been the cause of an argument.

“We aren’t going to force you to do anything,” Combeferre assured him. “We will support you in whatever you decide.”

He bit his lip before looking at Combeferre apologetically. “I don’t want to hide who I am,” he said quietly. “I’ve had to do that my entire life and the result has been that I don’t even _know_ who I am. I will never figure it out if I hide.”

Enjolras practically beamed at him and Combeferre allowed himself to smile as well.

“Well, then that’s that then,” he said with finality.

Tbc…


	3. Chapter Three

“What do you think?” Enjolras asked him a couple of weeks after he had moved in with them, thrusting a flyer into his hands.

“Les Amis de l’ABC,” Courfeyrac read. “Are you creating a club for people who like spelling French words?”

Enjolras scowled at him. “It’s a pun,” he explained impatiently. “Read the rest of the flyer.”

He bit back a grin as he did as the alpha asked, sobering as the words registered in his mind. “You’re starting a club for omega equality.”

“For gender equality as a whole,” Enjolras corrected. “But yes, omega equality is a very big part of that.”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, chewing his lip in worry. “It’s one thing to help me out, which I’m very grateful for it, but it’s different to pit yourself against the whole of society. People won’t take it very well.”

“People never take it well when change happens, but change is _needed_ ,” Enjolras said fervently, his eyes burning with passion. “People must take a stand and make it happen though. We can do that.”

“We?” he asked startled, jerking his head up from the flyer and giving the alpha a wide-eyed look. “Enjolras, I don’t—”

He cut the protest off, wondering how much of it was actually him talking and how much was his upbringing. Being part of an activist group like Enjolras was proposing went against everything his parents had taught him to be. He would be putting himself out there, letting himself be heard, when a good omega was supposed to keep to himself and speak only when spoken to.

But he had always been bad at being a good omega. And he _wanted_ things to change. He didn’t want _anyone_ to ever be in his position, with their first heat looming in the near future and with it almost certain death, regardless of what Enjolras said.

And he knew that many omegas had it even worse than he did. Maybe it was time to stop feeling sorry for himself and start doing things for those worse off than him.

A grin slowly spread over his face. “Count me in,” he said, a euphoric high running through him. He felt liberated just saying the words. Ever since he had walked out on his wedding, he felt lost. He finally felt like he was on the right path.

Combeferre, though, didn’t seem to thrilled with the idea when he got home from class, which Enjolras took as a personal affront.

“You believe in the cause as much as I do!” he argued. “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea? Combeferre, we have to do something! We cannot just sit back and let injustice happen! If everyone did that, there would never be any change! I need you to support me in this!”

“Enjolras, you know I support you in everything. It’s just… we both have other things we need to think of first,” Combeferre replied calmly, glancing at Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac was torn between annoyance and exasperated fondness, with the fondness quickly winning out. He knew that he should hold onto the annoyance, especially since he _was_ trying to be his own person and stand on his own. Combeferre treating him as if he needed to be taken care of, which was not really conducive to his overall goals.

But it felt _really_ nice.

And it wasn’t as if Combeferre didn’t take his opinion into account. Hell, it hadn’t really taken Courfeyrac long to realize that the alpha would cave to anything he wanted. Both of his new roommates would, really.

It was a bit weird how Courfeyrac had slotted so easily into their lives. To be honest, he was almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he was starting to be cautiously optimistic that it wouldn’t happen. It wasn’t as if Enjolras and Combeferre weren’t being themselves around him.

Enjolras was still the slightly socially awkward college freshman he had met initially, full of fiery passion and grand ideals. He was pretty sure that the blond was incapable of being anything _but_ himself, so Courfeyrac was secure in their fast friendship. He only wished that he could help the alpha make friends outside of the apartment. He was a great person, but Courfeyrac suspected that he came on a little too strong for people to handle at first.

Combeferre was a different story.

He had yet to see the older man lose his calm demeanor, and he never failed to keep both Enjolras and him grounded. At first, Courfeyrac was sure that his presence was causing the bespectacled alpha to be more uptight than normal, but Enjolras had assured him that it was how Combeferre always was.

Which had only convinced Courfeyrac that his presence was desperately needed to liven the apartment up. After all, Enjolras and Combeferre took life way too seriously.

This time, however, it was time for him to be serious.

“I want to be a part of this,” he stated, meeting and holding Combeferre’s eyes. “My situation could have ended so much worse than it has, and I know how lucky I am compared to others like me. I want to change things so that no one is ever in that type of situation again.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, concern written in his eyes. “You’ll be a pariah. People will hate you, make you a target. Courf, you could be _hurt_.”

“I’m already a pariah,” he said with wry smirk. “They can’t hurt me. I’ve have nothing left for them to take away from me, and if it comes down to physical violence, you and Enjolras will be just as big of targets but neither of you are concerned about yourselves. I won’t say that I can take care of myself. I think I’ve proven pretty spectacularly that I can’t, but I’d like to be able to help others who can’t either.”

He could tell Combeferre was torn, his instincts and concern for Courfeyrac warring with his desire to make him happy. He’d feel guilty taking advantage of that desire if this wasn’t so important.

Besides, if Enjolras was able to go against his instincts and concern, then it shouldn’t be any harder for Combeferre.

He didn’t know why that thought didn’t sit very well with him though.

Combeferre finally sighed in defeat. “If you two are going to do this, then I’m in too.”

“You could sound a bit more enthusiastic,” Enjolras said petulantly. Combeferre gave him a level look.

Courfeyrac didn’t care how reluctant Combeferre was. He knew the alpha would dedicate himself to the cause. Combeferre didn’t do anything without dedicating himself to it.

And he was allowing Courfeyrac to be a part of it.

Well, maybe _allowing_ was the wrong word. Courfeyrac knew Combeferre, and Enjolras, would never stop him from doing anything, that he was free to live his life the way he wanted, but it was _different_ to have people support him in his decisions.

And it definitely wasn’t a bad different.

#

Grantaire wanted to cry as he left the coffee shop. He had been fired. _Again_. Only this time, there wasn’t a second job he could scrape by doing until he found something else because that job _was_ his second job.

How the hell was he supposed to make rent? God, he had just moved into the shitty little apartment and now he was going to be evicted because he had lost his jobs.

And he had deserved to lose them too.

He had fucked up. He knew that. Going into work every day with alcohol on his breath was just asking for trouble but he _needed_ it. He couldn’t wait tables or make coffee with shaky hands. It wasn’t that he _liked_ the way alcohol made him feel; it just hurt _so bad_ to go without.

But that didn’t make going into work with a buzz any less stupid. He _needed_ those jobs. He didn’t have any money saved up! Everything he had had gone into the security deposit and first month rent on his shitty apartment, with what little left spent on his scent suppressing shampoo and alcohol. Hell, he barely had enough food in his cabinets to make him the rest of the week.

The only money he had left was a twenty dollar bill in his pocket that he had to use to buy more shampoo later that night. That would be enough for a small bottle of the stuff, which would probably last him another week, which so nicely coincided with when his rent was due.

So he had another week before he was a homeless, jobless, defiled omega dying from alcohol withdrawal. Wasn’t that just fan-fucking-tastic?

What was he supposed to do? He considered the few options he had left as he plodded towards his building, and frankly all of them sucked.

He could go back to the Thenardiers. At least with them, he had a shot of lasting a few more years. Those years would suck, but he’d be alive. Then again, after what he pulled, they may just decide he wasn’t worth the money it cost to keep him breathing.

There were also shelters he could go to. That didn’t solve anything though. He’d still have no money for booze or shampoo. Even if he were able to get his hand on shampoo, he knew those places had communal showers. Someone would find out and, best case scenario, report him as an omega. Worst case scenario really didn’t bear thinking of.

Of course, being outed as an omega wouldn’t be that bad. There were state-run omega homes for those omegas who had no one to support them. He’d be sent there if he were reported. It wouldn’t be so bad. They’d help him get clean. He might even be able to find some small measure of happiness.

Until the Thenardiers found him, at least.

He had no doubt that they would be watching the omega homes, lying in wait for him like a spider ready to swoop in on its prey. He’d be playing right into their hands if he went to one of those homes.

He didn’t really have much of a choice, though. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe he would last very long after he got evicted from his apartment for not being able to pay rent. If he didn’t die pathetically in a gutter, he’d be picked up by some pimp. Life in the Thenardiers’ brothel wasn’t fun, but he knew being on the street with a pimp was worse.

So he’d go to a home, he decided as he climbed the rickety stairs to his apartment. He’d get the shampoo tonight anyway, and would save it in case he needed it down the road. He’d take the day tomorrow to research which home would be the least likely to be under the Thenardiers’ watch.

So much for being self-sufficient, he thought bitterly as he collapsed on his bare mattress.

At least he wouldn’t be a whore. Well, at least not a practicing one.

#

This was a bad idea, Combeferre thought as he shifted closer to Courfeyrac. How did he let the younger man talk him into allowing him to come to campus to hand out _flyers_ in the middle of the quad? There were too many alphas around, giving the omega looks whenever they passed. Some merely puzzled, others offended and disgusted.

But the worst were the _leers_.

Courfeyrac was bravely ignoring them, chatting with a beta who reminded Combeferre of an overgrown puppy. Which probably wasn’t fair of him to think, but he wasn’t in a particularly giving mood at the moment.

Enjolras had taken up post outside the commons, a more well-trafficked area at this time of day so at least Courfeyrac was there. He had been afraid that the omega would insist on being with Enjolras. Combeferre wasn’t blind. He could see that his two apartment-mates had formed a quick connection.

Which meant that he definitely needed to put an end to the warm feeling he got whenever he looked at Courfeyrac.

Luckily, it hadn’t been too hard to convince the omega to help him with the quad. Combeferre suspected it was because he hadn’t wanted to be bombarded by such a large crowd. Whatever it was, he was thankful.

“—think it’s really brave what you’re doing,” the excitable puppy of a man was saying. “Many omegas are too afraid to put themselves out there, and those that are don’t have the understanding alpha that you do.”

“He’s not my alpha. He’s just one of my roommates,” Courfeyrac corrected, a little awkwardly, unknowingly causing Combeferre’s stomach to twist unpleasantly. He _would_ get a handle on this.

“But we both support him,” he stated, sounding more calm and collected than he felt. He knew his eyes were just daring the beta to challenge that, but the man seemed to have more sense than that.

“Of course,” he said quickly, smiling and nodding as if there were nothing unusual about the arrangement. As if defiled omegas always lived with two older alphas.

He frowned as he thought about that. They’d have to be careful, he realized. If they weren’t, someone could haul them in for abuse. After all, Courfeyrac was still technically underage, though he assured them that his eighteenth birthday was coming up fast.

“I’m Marius, by the way,” the beta continued, holding out a hand and eagerly shaking Combeferre’s hand when it was given. “As I was telling Courfeyrac, I had never really given much thought to gender equality. Betas from my background usually don’t have any reason to think about it, but I do think it’s worthwhile to pursue. I’d like to attend a meeting if I could.”

“Wonderful!” Combeferre said, shooting Courfeyrac a smile when he noticed the triumphant look upon his face. He knew that the omega was taking Marius’ support as proof that change _could_ happen. And Combeferre agreed. He always had.

But he also knew change could be messy, and he didn’t want Courfeyrac lost in that mess.

As he was instructing Marius about how to join the email listserv for the new group, he suddenly tensed as he saw a couple approaching them from the corner of his eye.

The alpha was large, easily the tallest Combeferre had ever met, with a muscular build and dark hair and eyes, a fiercely intense look in his eyes as he glared at a passing alpha that looked their way. In contrast, the omega at his side was tiny, with skin so pale it almost glowed, long strawberry blond curls, bright hazel eyes, and a small contented smile playing at his lips. To Combeferre, they looked to be the embodiment of the perfect alpha/omega couple. Big, masculine, and bold on one side, small, meek, and feminine.

Combeferre was terrified that they would take their cause as a personal offense. He just hoped that the alpha would take it up with him and leave Courfeyrac out of it.

Before they had reached them, though, the small omega gave a cry of delighted surprise and ran forward, grabbing Courfeyrac’s hands in delight and spinning around with him. Courfeyrac allowed it, looking as shocked and confused as Combeferre felt.

“Oh, I am sorry, but you have no idea how amazing it is to meet another omega here!” the small man exclaimed. “Proper omegas are apparently supposed to sit at home alone all day and cook and clean for their alpha,” he said in distaste, wrinkling his nose. “Not needle their alphas into sneaking them into the library to read poetry. The public library has such a ghastly selection though.”

A grin spread over Courfeyrac’s face as he immediately struck up a conversation about poetry with the other omega that Combeferre couldn’t really follow. It was amazing how much Courfeyrac had been able to learn over the years despite his lack of a formal education. He should be attending university with him and Enjolras, not just sneaking onto campus to pass out flyers.

The large alpha was suddenly next to him, frowning down at him. Marius quickly excused himself and promised to send an email. Combeferre merely nodded nervously before turning his attention to the alpha.

A flyer was snatched out of his hand before either could say a word and the alpha _growled_ at him and pulled him a little ways away from the conversing omegas. Combeferre was understandably concerned at the turn of events, but was glad that at least Courfeyrac was a safe distance away.

“Do you think half-heartedly petitioning for omega rights honestly makes up for the fact that you signed that one’s _death certificate_?” he hissed, nodding towards Courfeyrac.

Combeferre was so offended that he forgot for a moment that he was speaking with a man that looked like he could easily break him in two. “One,” he said in a deadly calm voice. “I _never_ do _anything_ half-heartedly. And two, Courfeyrac will die over my dead body.”

“Exactly!” the alpha roared in anger before glancing quickly at the omegas who hadn’t seemed to notice their argument. Or were at least doing a good job at pretending they hadn’t. “What exactly do you think will happen if something happens to you?” he asked in a softer but no less angry voice. “What do you think his prospects will be without you now that you’ve _defiled_ him?”

“He has not been _defiled_ ,” Combeferre said, spitting the word and losing what little cool he had managed to hold onto. “He may not be the virginal omega society expects of him, but he is most certainly not _tainted_ because of it.”

“He didn’t do this to me,” Courfeyrac’s voice cut through whatever either alpha might have said next. He placed a calming hand on Combeferre’s arm and gave the other alpha a solemn look. “Combeferre and his roommate have been nothing but wonderful to me. I made a stupid mistake, and ran away from the consequences. They didn’t have to take me in. So I would ask you to _back off_.”

The tone of the words was more of a demand than a request, and Combeferre was deathly afraid that the alpha would not take it well. Thankfully, he only looked sheepish, which might have been due, in part, to the quailing look his omega was giving him.

So much for what Combeferre thought about him being meek.

“Bahorel is a little overprotective of omegas in general,” the omega said, looking at Combeferre apologetically.

“Someone has to _try_ to protect them,” Bahorel replied sullenly. “Society is doing a piss-poor job at it.”

“And we’re trying to change that,” Combeferre said, sharing a look with the other alpha that told him they were in agreement. Looking at things from Bahorel’s perspective, he could see what had set the man off. An unbonded and non-virgin omega with an alpha giving lip service to equality while putting his omega at risk? He probably would have been angry as well. He might not have been as forthright with it as Bahorel, but still.

Then again, was letting Courfeyrac be a part of Les Amis de l’ABC any better? He was still putting the omega at risk.

“I want to join them,” the omega at Bahorel’s side said fiercely. The alpha gave Combeferre a helpless look before agreeing with him.

“Where do we sign up?”

At least he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t resist capitulating to his omega’s demands.

He frowned internally at that and scolded himself. He couldn’t start thinking of Courfeyrac as “his” omega. He wouldn’t do that even if he thought he had a chance without Courfeyrac’s consent, and he was fairly positive that he didn’t have a chance anyway.

It didn’t matter, he decided. Whether or not Courfeyrac would ever be his, Combeferre was going to be there for him and make him as happy as he possibly could.

Tbc…


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so in this story, Les Amis is started a little sooner than it was in If I Die Young because of Courfeyrac's influence on Enjolras, which allows for the happenstance meeting that takes place in this chapter at the first Les Amis meeting.

Grantaire tried not to squirm under Mr. Sloan’s, the beta caretaker, gaze. This was the last home on his list that had seemed safe from the Thenardiers.

It wasn’t easy narrowing down the factors that would make a home safe from the brothel owners. Proximity to any place where cops would be was a given, of course, which was what put this place on his radar to begin with. The police station two blocks down guaranteed that the Thenardiers wouldn’t be lurking about too often.

The other factors were more nebulous. How many omegas were reported missing? That was a tough one because many omegas that stayed in these types of home were runaways, prone to leave for any reason. How many omegas were taken in by “family”? Again, difficult because sometimes the family was actually legitimate and sometimes not. Did the home have any religious affiliation? Problematic. Sometimes the churches were just doing good, sometimes they were doing good for themselves.

Still, Grantaire had narrowed his list down to four homes he thought were probably safe. The first had been full. The next didn’t take defiled omegas. The final one didn’t like the fact that he was penniless.

The was really his last hope.

It didn’t matter if the caretaker creeped him the fuck out. He had to be taken in there.

“Well, let’s begin, shall we?” Sloan said, turning to his computer. “Legal name?”

“Grantaire.”

The caretaker raised an eyebrow. “No family name?”

He shook his head. It wasn’t that unusual for omegas to have no family name. In the past, omegas weren’t allowed a family name until they were bonded and took their bondmate’s name. There was trend away from that, but it wasn’t unusual enough for Grantaire to stand out.

Of course, he didn’t have a family name because his parents had sold him to the Thenardiers.

“Age?”

“Eighteen.”

“Last place of residence?”

“I, um, I don’t know,” Grantaire replied, pitching his voice to sound unsure and sincere. He couldn’t tell him the truth, so he had to make this bit up. “I lived with my cousin here since I was nine, but he got married, you see, and had to move and couldn’t take me with him,” he was speaking in a rush deliberately, hoping his story wouldn’t be questioned too much. “I don’t know the address. I, uh, I can’t read, you see, and it never seemed important to know…”

He trailed off and tried to look as pathetic as possible. It must have worked as the caretaker just nodded and moved on.

“Any assets in your name?”

This was the question that had kept out of the previous two homes. It was _meant_ to be a helpful question—to allow counselors at the omega home to give their wards advice about how best to manage their assets with the goal of becoming self-sufficient enough to move out of the home.

It was usually used by the staff to figure out which omegas had money they could steal.

“No,” he said honestly.

The caretaker just took note of it and moved on, causing Grantaire to let out a silent sigh of relief.

“Medical conditions?”

Grantaire worried his bottom lip. He knew he had to be upfront about his need for alcohol. Omegas weren’t allowed to purchase alcohol, and there was no way the home would provide it to him. Now that he was no longer disguising his scent, he wouldn’t be able to purchase it and sneak it in himself.

Which meant the pain and the shaking and the nausea would all start again.

“I get… sick… when I go too long without a drink,” he mumbled awkwardly, not really know how to describe it.

Sloan raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to alcohol?” Grantaire nodded, not meeting the man’s eyes. “Hmm, I suppose that will be an obstacle you will have to overcome. We will not tolerate alcoholic consumption by our omegas here.”

His head snapped up. “You mean I can stay?” he asked, almost dizzy with relief.

“You are in luck,” he said with a shark-like smile. “We’re a small facility, but we do have one room available. As I’m sure you know, we are one of the few omega homes that have single-occupancy rooms. We feel as if this allows the omega a little bit more independence, which helps them grow into their own and makes them more desirable as a potential bondmate.”

Grantaire nodded, too caught up in his relief at being able to stay to roll his eyes at the officious tone of the words.

“You’ll be free to come and go as you please, but there is a strict curfew of eleven o’clock. If you are not home and in bed by that time, the police will be notified of your truancy, whether it is your first offense or your twentieth.”

Grantaire carefully controlled his reaction to that. Multiple truancy offenses, or even one, if it were severe enough, on an omega’s record led to being locked up in detention center. Oh, they made it sound better by calling it a “rehabilitation home” meant to “facilitate the omega’s acclimation to society.” Mostly it was where the government stuck misbehaving omegas that had become wards of the state.

It was another reason Grantaire had been hesitant to submit himself to an omega home and become a ward of the state. If society treated omegas like objects, it was only because the government put its seal of approval on it.

He was sure he was going to regret this, but he didn’t have much of a choice anymore.

Sloan led him up the stairs to a tiny room at the end of the second floor hall. Grantaire dropped his nearly empty bag on the bed.

“There are bins of clothing in the attic,” Sloan said. Grantaire was sure there were, most probably from omegas who had died in heat. “One of the other omegas can help you find stuff. Fresh linens and towels are in the hallway closet. There are two other omegas on this floor. My room and two other omegas are on the third floor. I’ll leave you to get settled.”

With one last sweeping gaze over Grantaire, he left.

Wonderful, he thought. This place might not be somewhere the Thenardiers wouldn’t find him, but he wasn’t sure if the caretaker was going to be much of a step up.

Before he could ponder that any further, a small blond streak ran through the room and jumped on the bed.

“I know you!” a blond boy who couldn’t be older than eight exclaimed. “You were the one who left! You caused so much fuss they didn’t see me leave!” he proclaimed proudly.

Grantaire blinked down at the small omega child, a chill running through him. If this boy had escaped from Patron Minette too, that could increase the danger of being found.

“Gavroche!” the cry came from another blonde omega, this one older and female, standing in the door and giving a stern look towards the boy. “You can’t just barge in on other people’s rooms!”

Gavroche. The name made him run cold. Gavroche _Thenardier_. If Patron Minette wanted to get _him_ back, how much harder would they try to get the Thenardiers’ _son_?

“Don’t worry,” the kid said, smirking up at him. “Ma and Pa will never find us here. Mr. Sloan has too close a relationship with the police for them to come anywhere near here. Even if they spotted us, they’d leave us alone. Tell him, Cosette!”

The other blonde shot him an apologetic smile from the doorway but nodded her agreement. “It’s true,” she said. “When I first came here, one of the other omegas was taken by her former pimp. Mr. Sloan has an inspector at the police station he’s close to. He’s like a bloodhound. Once he’s after someone, he refuses to stop until they are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Gavroche’s parents won’t want to do anything that might get him on their tail.”

The knot in his stomach eased a little bit, but not by much. This still didn’t make him feel much better, but he figured this place was at least safe for a little while. He could still run if he needed to. Hiding from the cops couldn’t be much harder than hiding from the Thenardiers.

He just needed to get sober first.

And with his hands already trembling after only being without alcohol for a little less than a day, he knew that was going to be a battle in and of itself.

#

Courfeyrac was nearly vibrating with excitement as he listened to the discussion around him. The crowd they attracted to the inaugural meeting of Les Amis de l’ABC wasn’t large. Besides Bahorel, Jehan, and Marius, there was only three other people who had come, two betas and one alpha, but it was a start.

Jehan was seated next to him and looked just as excited as he was, though the waitress serving them didn’t seem too impressed as she refilled their coffee. They were meeting at a small, not well patroned café not too far from campus. Enjolras had refused to make their group an official campus organization, citing the fact that omegas weren’t allowed admittance to the university as the reason. As such, they had been unable to meet on campus, and were forced to make other arrangements.

The discussion had quickly become dominated by Enjolras and the alpha Courfeyrac hadn’t met yet. The words they exchanged were heated, but Courfeyrac wouldn’t call it an argument. More like aggressive agreement.

He idly wondered if he should be worried about the fervor in Enjolras’ eyes as he looked upon the other alpha. Then again, fighting for gender equality surely encompassed fighting for the rights of same-assignation couples. If their leader was going to be involved in one, that might make their group seem more honest.

That caused an uneasy in him as he realized that he made an excellent exhibit for their group as well, but he mentally shook it off. If his situation could help advance their cause, at least something good would have come of his stupidity.

Combeferre caught his eye from where he was sitting on the other side of Enjolras and raised an eyebrow in askance, obviously catching Courfeyrac’s momentary unease.

God, eyebrows shouldn’t be allowed to be that sexy.

He beat that thought down. He was not going to be attracted to Combeferre. The alpha had been too good to him. Enjolras had basically forced Courfeyrac onto him, and he had just taken it in stride, indulging both of them and keeping them both grounded. Courfeyrac wasn’t going to pay him back by mooning after him like some lovesick puppy.

Combeferre deserved much better than someone else’s sloppy seconds.

He shot the alpha a reassuring smile, making sure none of these thoughts were on his face, before turning his attention back to Enjolras.

“There _is_ no voice for omegas in Congress!” he was saying, apparently refuting something the other alpha had said. “ _That_ is the point and that has to be our focus! If we can get them to focus on equality for all!”

“What a _novel_ idea,” the waitress spat, apparently finally having enough of the conversation and turning to Enjolras with a hand on her hip. She was closer to Courfeyrac now, and he could smell the scent of _alpha_ pouring from her pours.

His heart went out to her. As a defiled omega, society might scorn him, but a female alpha was treated as fundamentally _wrong_ by society. Because alpha-omega bonding required penetration, a female alpha was seen as useless. They were shunned and demeaned just for being born. He really didn’t blame her for being fed up with their discussion.

“Do you really think that your little group will be the first to try and get politicians on their side?” she continued with a scoff. “Politicians care only about themselves. If you want to change their minds, you’ve got to make it in their best interest.”

Instead of being offended, Enjolras just looked intrigued. “So what you’re saying is that we need to get the people on our side?” he asked.

She looked taken aback as he turned fully to her, obviously expecting a different reaction. “Yes,” she said once she got her wits about her. “But the problem with _that_ ,” she went on, gaining steam as she went, “is that the people don’t care unless it’s in _their_ best interest.”

“So what would you suggest?” he asked.

“You really want to know my opinion?” she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. He nodded sincerely. She looked around at the rest of the table. Courfeyrac gave her an encouraging nod as her gaze landing on his.

“I think you should focus on helping those who can’t help themselves,” she stated firmly. “You can spread your ideas around as much as you want, but that you won’t help anyone for a long time, if ever. There are a lot of omegas out there that can’t wait.”

“Where would you suggest we start?” Combeferre asked, looking up from the notes he was taking.

She bit her lip before looking back towards the counter. Seeing her boss nowhere in sight, she turned back to them. “The brothels and the streets,” she answered promptly. “No one cares about those omegas, and they’re the ones who need help the most. Now I do have work to do,” she said, moving to walk away.

“Wait!” Courfeyrac cried, hesitating just a moment after attention was turned to him. Even after the time he spent living with Enjolras and Combeferre, it was still odd to have people care what he had to say. “What’s your name?”

“Eponine,” she answered before stalking away to wait on the two other customers in the café.

“She makes a good point,” one of the betas said. Courfeyrac was pretty sure his name was Joly, mostly because his companion was very distinctive with his bald head. Lesgles his name was, but he had told them to call him Bossuet. “We must advocate for equality, but we should also help those in need _now_.”

“I agree,” Courfeyrac said boldly. “I speak from experience when I tell you that there aren’t a lot of options out there for omegas who have, let’s say fallen out of favor with society,” he said wryly. Jehan reached underneath the table and gripped his hand tightly in solidarity. “There’s no way to earn money without debasing yourself. Omega homes are, of course, an option, but the stories that are spread about what goes on in those is enough to scare anyone away. I’m not sure what would have become of me if it weren’t for Enjolras and Combeferre.”

That was a lie. He would be at the bottom of the river most likely, but he didn’t really want to confess that.

There was a chorus of agreements around the table, and that set off another discussion about where best to begin, which only ended after Combeferre suggested that more research on the subject was needed and that they should dedicate themselves to that before coming together next week to discuss it.

The meeting deteriorated after that, with everyone mostly chit-chatting about their lives and getting to know each other better. Courfeyrac spied Eponine wiping down the counter with no one else around and took the opportunity to excuse himself to speak with her, with Jehan wordlessly joining him.

She raised her eyebrow at their approach. Courfeyrac was quick to notice that, although it looked very fetching on her, it was much more attractive when Combeferre did it.

“Did they elect the omegas to come sweet talk the pitiful she-alpha?” she asked scornfully.

“Nope,” Courfeyrac said cheerily, not bothered by her tone at all and plopping himself down on a stool in front of the counter. “These omegas pretty much do as we please, and we pleased to come get to know you better.”

She snorted in amusement. “Listen,” she said, wiping the counter with purpose. “I think your cause is worthwhile and all, but I got my own problems.”

“Can we help?” Courfeyrac asked eagerly. “You did say the best way to start spreading the gender equality message was to help people in need.”

“I said to help _omegas_ in need,” she snapped with a glare. “I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you very much.”

“So are omegas,” Jehan said matter-of-factly, his eyes daring her to challenge the statement. “But that doesn’t mean a little help doesn’t make our lives easier. And if we are promoting gender equality, we should treat all genders equally.”

 “I think your alphas have spoiled you by always giving you your way,” she muttered before sighing in defeat at the combined weight of his and Jehan’s defiant gazes. “After I ran away from home, my brother apparently manifested as an omega. I tried going back for him after I found out, but he had already run away too.”

“And your parents?” Jehan asked.

“Not good people,” she replied shortly. “I haven’t been able to find him on the streets. I’m starting to suspect he’s got himself in a home somewhere.”

“We can help you find him!” Courfeyrac volunteered readily. “We wouldn’t be suspicious around omega homes like you would, and it would give us the opportunity to figure out the types of conditions at the homes!”

Jehan nodded and cast a fond smile at the table they had just left. Courfeyrac followed his gaze and noticed that all the occupants kept sending worried glances their way. “Let’s face it, there’s no way they’d let us doing any hands-on investigation of omega life on the street or in brothels,” the other omega said with a roll of his eyes. “This way, we can be useful to everyone.”

“Fine,” she agreed finally. “But I’m not talking your alphas into letting you do it.”

Courfeyrac and Jehan shared a triumphant grin. Courfeyrac knew that Jehan had Bahorel wrapped around his little finger, so there was no way the alpha would try and stop him. And since Courfeyrac didn’t _have_ an alpha, there would be no one to stop him either.

He found out later, when he told Enjolras and Combeferre the plan, that he was completely wrong about that.

Enjolras, though, caved with Courfeyrac’s insistence that it was necessary for the cause and that he would be as careful as possible. Combeferre, however, was harder to convince, and only caved at Courfeyrac’s heartfelt plea to be able to do something actually _useful_.

#

All he knew for the first days of his stay at the home was pain. Was it really only days? It felt like weeks, maybe even months. It _hurt_. Fuck, did it hurt.

A soothing voice was there at times, bathing his head, forcing water and broth both down his throat. He didn’t know who it wasn’t. Hell, half the time he didn’t remember who _he_ was. He remembered the blurry form of a golden angel, but he wasn’t sure if that was the delirium getting to him or not.

Sometimes there were harsher voices. One had said that there was a chance he might not live through it.

To hell with that, he decided. He had gotten this far, he was going to damn well see it through.

His angelic comforter must have agreed, as the calm voice encouraged him to keep fighting.

It was that voice that greeted him when he finally opened his eyes to a pain-free world again.

“You’re awake!” it cried joyfully. His vision sharpened and he recognized Cosette at his bedside, blue eyes lighting up as a dazzling smile spread across her face. “You had me and Gavroche very worried.”

“Sorry,” he croaked, sitting up shakily.

“Don’t apologize,” she said sternly, lending a hand to steady him. “You can make it up to us by never touching a drop of alcohol again. The doctor said the withdrawal nearly killed you.”

“I don’t intend to,” he promised fiercely, head spinning slightly now that he was sitting up. Cosette arranged the pillows behind him and pushed his back slightly, allowing him to still be sitting up but giving him more support.

He meant what he said. It was probably an odd thing to be addicted to something you loathed so much, but Grantaire detested the way alcohol tasted and made him feel. The only reason he had gotten addicted was because he was force-fed it by the Thenardiers. Apparently, it wasn't _desirable_ to have young omegas—children really—struggle when you were paying to fuck them. Alcohol was cheap sedative.

“So tell me about this place,” he said to change the subject. “I never really got a chance to ask anything before I fell ill.”

She snorted at his description of his withdrawal but allowed the subject change. “Not much to tell,” she replied, not meeting his eyes. “Mr. Sloan pretty much leaves us alone as long as we make curfew and keep out of trouble.”

“But?” he asked, sensing there was more to the place than she was telling.

Cosette bit her lip and glanced towards the door. “We’re not supposed to know,” she said, pitching her voice low. “Gavroche and me. He took us in to look legitimate. Doesn’t touch us,” she said meaningfully.

He frowned as his recovering brain tried to understand what she was saying, what she was trying to _warn_ him about. Why would her and Gavroche be different?

His eyes widened as he realized something.

“You’re both pure,” he said, feeling sick all over.

She nodded unhappily, giving him a compassionate look. “He’ll probably keep his distance from you for a while, since you’ve been ill,” she said, trying to be reassuring but not really looking as if she believed her words herself. “Anyway the two upstairs keep him fairly occupied, and he has easier access to them because they’re on his floor and he doesn’t want _us_ to know…”

Great, he thought as he looked away from her sad gaze and glared at the ceiling. It was better than the Thenardiers, he conceded, but not much. He had the shampoo. He could still leave. At least, he could leave once he got his strength back. He might not hurt, but he felt as weak as a kitten right now. But once he was stronger, he could try to make it on his own again. It’d be harder with no money to start out with, but he could try.

“You’re awake!”

Gavroche came flying into the room and hopped onto the bed, surprisingly gentle. Given Cosette was giving him a stern look, Grantaire assumed the small boy had been less than gentle while he was delirious.

“Are you all better now? Cosette and I stayed by your side the entire time!” he said, looking up at him with not a little bit of hero-worship.

He’d be crushed if Grantaire left, he realized. And Cosette had taken such good care of him, could he really leave her alone with Sloan, even if he hadn’t touched her _yet_?

He’d wait, he decided. Sloan hadn’t done anything to him yet. He owed it to Cosette and Gavroche to stick around a little bit longer.

Tbc…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is literally taking forever for Grantaire and Enjolras to meet in this story.
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter Five

It had been a month and Sloan hadn’t touched him.

Grantaire was grateful for that at least, but he didn’t like the way the beta’s eyes followed him, crawling over his body with a hungry look on his face.

It was even worse when he turned those eyes on Cosette.

The other omega didn’t notice. Maybe she was too innocent to recognize the look. She seemed to think she and Gavroche were safe, that Sloan needed them to maintain a façade of legitimacy.

But she hadn’t talked to the two omegas upstairs.

This wasn’t necessarily her fault, of course. The other omegas kept to themselves, and neither Cosette nor Gavroche had been here for very long. Cosette wasn’t one to intrude when she wasn’t welcome, and she somehow always managed to get Gavroche to listen to her.

Grantaire, however, had wanted as much information as possible and had sought the two out when he knew Sloan was out of the house.

The younger of the two was a male omega, not much older than Grantaire himself, but who wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. The other, though, was much more talkative, though she kept throwing anxious glances out the window, making sure Sloan wasn’t back yet.

“You’ll have to forgive Michel,” she had said, after introducing herself as Dominique. “He’s been here since he was littler than that new blond boy. Worships the ground Sloan walks on. Doesn’t realize Sloan is gonna use him up til he’s all burnt out. Won’t realize it. And he’s very jealous of you.”

“Me?” Grantaire had asked, not understanding.

“Sloan always has two up here, see,” she said, pitching her voice low. “Doesn’t do nothing on the second floor. Me? I ain’t competition to him. Different parts and all. Michel knows Sloan likes his variety better than any of us, so he don’t make a fuss about me. But _you_? Well, you’re a very pretty male omega, prettier than him for sure. Them blue eyes and those curls? Sloan hasn’t stopped talking about them since you got here. And he already had talked about the blonde chit as well. Michel is afraid the two of you are gonna be moved up here, and Sloan will forget about him.”

Grantaire’s blood had run cold at the thought. “We don’t want that,” he had said faintly, causing her to laugh derisively.

“Don’t none of us _want_ it,” she replied. “’Cept Michel, but Sloan has had him fucked up since forever. If I were you, I’d leave while I still can.”

“What about you?”

She had laughed again. “Me? I’m 27 years old. The time I got left ain’t worth saving.”

He had left the conversation not feeling very hopeful. He couldn’t leave. Especially knowing that Cosette was on Sloan’s radar as well. He wanted to just grab her and Gavroche and just leave, but where were they supposed to go?

He had settled for the next best thing. Instead of sticking to the house during the day, as soon as he was strong enough, he had made sure the three of them were out from early in the morning to late at night, packing meals so they wouldn’t have to come back. It was actually probably a good thing for Gavroche. Staying cooped up in the home would only make him more likely to get in trouble.

So instead, Cosette and Grantaire took him everywhere they could that didn’t require money. They went to the park a lot, as that was easy and free. There were also some public museums that they frequented quite a bit. And, of course, the library.

Neither he nor Gavroche knew how to read. Cosette, though, had learned from her mother before she had passed away, and had taken it upon herself to teach them. Grantaire was a quick study and after a month could read quite a bit, albeit slowly. Gavroche, though, had advanced quite nicely as well.

He wasn’t sure the alpha librarian approved of their prolific reading habits, but he couldn’t refuse them access to the books, especially after issuing them their library cards to begin with.

Still, though his days with Cosette and Gavroche away from Sloan were the most enjoyable he had ever had, the fear still lurked in the back of his mind that the bottom was going to fall out soon.

#

A loud clap of thunder caused him to jerk awake in confusion. He frowned, uncertain what woke him, before the room was illuminated by a wickedly large streak of lightning in the sky. He gasped and dove off the bed, grabbing the covers as he went and wrapping himself up like a burrito on the floor. Another crash of thunder had him shaking, and as lightning illuminated the room once more, he fled to the hallway, nearly crying as he spotted the window at the end of the hall.

Why did this apartment have to have so many damn windows? Courfeyrac wondered in despair. He slid down next to the corner where the hall met the kitchen, figuring this was probably as far away from the stupid windows he’d be able to get.

He _hated_ thunderstorms.

Had since he had gotten caught outside in one. It hadn’t been his fault. Well, maybe it had been. If he hadn’t gotten lost, he would have made it home before it started to rain. But no one had come looking for him. He just wondered around in the woods, wet, freezing, _frightened_ , until he had finally found his house.

And his parents had been _angry_ with him when he came home.

Not the angry parents were supposed to be when their child had done something stupid to endanger themselves. Not the I’m-so-happy-you’re-okay-but-you-are-grounded-forever anger. No, this was pure you-are-worthless anger. He sometimes wondered if they would have preferred him to stay lost.

But dwelling on the past didn’t help the situation. He wrapped the blankets around him, covering his eyes and trying to curl up as small as possible against the wall. He thought maybe he’d be able to fall asleep out here, but even with the blankets covering his eyes, he could still see the flash of lightning through the fabric, and the thunder still shook him to the bone.

Well, it couldn’t storm forever, right?

He was tempted to crawl into bed with one of his roommates, _just_ for comfort. Some deeply ingrained instinct was telling him that they were alphas and that they would protect him. It was a stupid instinct, Courfeyrac knew from past experience. No alpha had ever protected him.

Well, until Enjolras had found him, so maybe it wasn’t such a stupid instinct when it came to _these_ alphas.

Neither of them would mind. Both would probably be worried if they knew he was out in the hall shivering with fear and didn’t feel comfortable enough to come to them. But he did! Feel comfortable, that is.

He just… didn’t know how to choose between them.

Which was stupid, he knew, but he didn’t want either to think that he didn’t love them equally. His mind jolted as he thought the word love, but it was true. He loved them both. Not in the same way, of course, but still.

Enjolras would be the safer option. There was no chance of him reading anything deeper than friendship into Courfeyrac’s actions. One, because Enjolras was simply terrible at figuring out what other people were feeling. Two, because there were no feelings deeper than friendship on Courfeyrac’s part.

So yes, Enjolras was the safer option, but he wouldn’t make Courfeyrac feel as safe as Combeferre would.

He really wasn’t sure how he allowed his feelings to get so deep, so fast for the alpha. Sure, the man was a constant, steady presence in Courfeyrac’s life, always taking care of him, always ensuring he had everything he needed, but that’s how Combeferre _was_. He did that with _everyone_ , and he took extreme care when it came to _both_ his roommates. Courfeyrac was an idiot to let that get to him.

But Combeferre actually _listened_ to him. Well, all of Les Amis listened to him, really. There were no differentiations among genders at the meetings. Everyone was equal. But Combeferre… He treated Courfeyrac as if _everything_ he said was valuable. Even when he was being flippant or stubborn or utterly _ridiculous_ , Combeferre would still be looking at him with a patient and understanding look in his eye.

It was _maddening_!

And all that added up to Courfeyrac, in his secretest of minds, thinking of Combeferre as _his_ alpha, a title he knew Combeferre would not like but one that made him feel _protected_ and _home_ and _loved_.

And the thought of that going away, the thought of Combeferre _rejecting_ him—even if it were probably the gentlest, nicest rejection in the history of the world—it would break him, he knew.

So he crept down the hall and into Enjolras’ room. He closed the door as quietly as he could and tiptoed over to the bed. He stood there in indecision for a moment. Enjolras looked so peaceful in sleep. It would be very rude to disturb.

He had halfway made up his mind to retreat when a streak of lightning lit up the room. He jumped and scrambled into bed with Enjolras as fast as he could.

“Wha?” the alpha said sleepily, arms flailing slightly as he startled awake. “Courfeyrac?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Thunder sounded yet again and he threw his arms around Enjolras, burying his face in his chest. “Sorry,” he mumbled again.

“It’s okay,” Enjolras soothed, turning towards him and wrapping an arm him.

Courfeyrac sighed into his hold and relaxed. Enjolras might not have been Combeferre, but that didn’t mean that the alpha didn’t exude a sense of security as well. Safe in Enjolras’ embrace, he allowed himself to slip into slumber, only half-wishing the arms around him belonged to someone else.

#

Combeferre smiled to himself as he stirred the pancake batter with practice ease. He carefully poured it in round blobs are the griddle and patiently waited for the top of the pancakes to bubble before flipping them, humming quietly to himself.

Courfeyrac and Enjolras were still sleeping. Neither of them were really morning people. If it weren’t for Combeferre, they would probably never eat breakfast. Then again, Enjolras would probably subsist only on coffee and beef jerky if it weren’t for Combeferre. Courfeyrac wasn’t much better, though he tried to hide it better.

The difference, though, was that while Enjolras was completely unaware of his ability to look after himself, Courfeyrac was _ashamed_ of himself, which made Combeferre _livid_ , not that he would ever let the omega see it.

He wasn’t mad at _Courfeyrac_ , of course. He was mad at his parents, yes, and the alpha who used him and left him for dead, and possibly society as a whole, but _never_ at Courfeyrac.

Besides, while Combeferre might feel responsible for Enjolras, he _wanted_ to take care of Courfeyrac.

He smiled as he heard a door open. He looked up as he deftly flipped a pancake and his heart fell into his stomach as he saw Courfeyrac step out of Enjolras’ room.

“Morning,” the omega mumbled sleepily as he walked into the kitchen, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet and pouring himself some coffee.

Combeferre fought to keep his feelings off of his face. “Good morning. Is there a reason you slept in Enjolras’ room last night?” he asked, unable to stop himself.

He couldn’t see his face, but he saw Courfeyrac’s shoulders stiffen. “It stormed last night. I… don’t like storms.”

And he sought Enjolras out because he was frightened. It was perfectly innocent, Combeferre knew. It was natural for the omega to gravitate towards the alpha who had saved him, for lack of a better word. He couldn’t take it personally. He _wouldn’t_ take it personally.

“Well, I’m sure pancakes are just what the doctor ordered after your rough night,” he said lightly, smiling as Courfeyac turned around and lit up as he finally noticed what Combeferre was cooking.

“You are a god among men,” he said solemnly, dropping into a stool on the other side of the bar and watching him cook.

“I prefer to be a simple man, thank you,” he bantered back.

“Too bad,” Courfeyrac said with a smirk. “There is nothing simple about you. There are none that exceed your greatness.”

Before he could answer, Enjolras stumbled in. Combeferre quickly focused on the pancakes, flipping a few onto a plate and setting them down in front of Courfeyrac before pouring more batter on the griddle, still carefully avoiding looking at his roommates.

He might not take Courfeyrac’s preference of Enjolras over him personally, but he didn’t think his heart could see it in front of him so soon after the realization.

He’d get over it though. And it would make both of the two people he cared most for happy. He really had no reason to complain.

#

Courfeyrac frowned at the omega home in front of him. This was the last one on their list. Enjolras had suggested, with the staunch support of both Combeferre and Bahorel, that Jehan and he stick to a list of homes they were fairly sure were safe for the two omegas to visit. At least for now.

Jehan hadn’t been too thrilled at the limit, but Courfeyrac was still on the high of being included so he was okay with the limitation at first. However, now that they’d pretty much made it through the list with no sign of Eponine’s little brother, he was beginning to get frustrated. This was the last home on the list, and he and Jehan had decided to visit it before the meeting that night.

Hoping for better luck this time, he caught Jehan’s eye before knocking on the door. A beta with dull brown hair and grey eyes opened it.

Jehan opened his mouth, but the man at the door cut him off. “We don’t have any room for another omega, let alone two. But if you’re still looking in a month or so, come back and we may be able to fit you in. I think one of ‘em is starting to show signs of heat.”

The casual way the man said it grated on Courfeyrac, as if the thought of one of the home’s charges dying didn’t faze him at all.

“We’re actually looking for someone,” he replied coolly.

“Are you, now?” he said with a leer. The lecherous gleam in his eyes as he looked Courfeyrac up and down made his stomach twist nervously. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk about who you’re looking for? I meet a lot of omegas. Even if they aren’t here, I might know ‘em.”

He exchanged a meaningful look with Jehan. This beta was giving them both a bad feeling.

“We don’t really have the time to come in,” Jehan said smoothly. “But this omega is eight, blond hair, blue eyes, might be using the name Gavroche?”

“Oh, Gavroche!” the beta cried, nodding eagerly. “Yes, he stays here. He’s out at the moment, I’m afraid. Two of the older omegas have taken him under their wing and take him out every day, you see? Good thing for me, of course, because eight year olds can be a bit rambunctious. Why don’t you come in and wait for him?”

Courfeyrac shot a nervous look to Jehan and saw he thought the same.

There was a chance the caretaker was telling the truth, and Gavroche _did_ live there. But there was an equal chance that he just wanted to lure the two of them inside and then…

He really didn’t know what came after that though. Truthfully, he couldn’t really see this rather small beta being able to overpower both him and Jehan. Sure, Jehan was tiny for an omega, but Courfeyrac was probably about the same size as this beta.

And if there was a _chance_ Gavroche _was_ there, did they really want to leave a small child with this man any longer?

His indecision must have shown on his face because Jehan gave him a sharp look of warning.

“We really can’t wait,” the other omega said, more to Courfeyrac than the beta. “Our _alphas_ are waiting for us. We’ll be back another time.”

With that, Jehan all but pulled him away from the home. He waited until they were a couple of blocks away before rounding on Courfeyrac. “Are you out of your mind?” he hissed softly. Courfeyrac had long since learned that Jehan’s anger simmered quietly and that was when he was most dangerous. “You saw the way that man was looking at you! And you still considered waiting!”

“Gavroche might be there!” Courfeyrac protested. “And I wasn’t going to suggest you stay as well! I was going to have you go back to inform the others!”

“And leave you there alone?” he asked incredulously. “Do you really have no sense of self-preservation? Do you know how devastated Combeferre and Enjolras would be if something happened to you? How devastated we _all_ would be?”

The question made him pause. He had never really considered it. All his life, he had been nothing but a burden on other people. Quite frankly, his parents would probably have been _thrilled_ if something had happened to him. To have people other than himself whom his well-being affected was a foreign feeling.

Sure, he knew they cared about him, but this… was different.

“Oh, honey,” Jehan said, obviously seeing some of his thoughts written plainly on his face. He pulled him into a fierce hug. “We all love you so much. Please just be more careful.”

He nodded seriously. “I will. And you’re right. It would have been a bad idea to stay.”

“Of course it would have been,” he replied matter-of-factly, pulling away from Courfeyrac and giving him a sly grin. “Don’t worry though. I won’t tell Combeferre.”

He smiled gratefully. No need to worry Combeferre over something that didn’t even happen.

“Thanks.”

Jehan’s grin grew wider and he shrugged. “No problem. Now, come on. We need to tell the others that we _may_ have a lead on Eponine’s brother.”

Tbc…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it is shameful that my oneshot e/R story has gotten more kudos than this one, so please push the button ;) And leave a comment! I love to hear your thoughts!


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got writer's block on my original stuff, and realized I needed another outlet. Hope you enjoy!

Grantaire was worried.

No, that wasn’t right. Worried sounded far too mild to describe his current state of mind.

He was fucking terrified.

Dominique had pulled him aside before he had left with Cosette and Gavroche earlier that morning. She had looked awful, but she didn’t actually need to tell him why.

It was so close and so strong that even an omega could smell it.

“My heat is almost here,” she had said unnecessarily, an oddly resolute look of resignation glinting in her eyes.

He only nodded and left it at that. He knew any words from him would be meaningless. She was giving him a warning. He was grateful, but he really didn’t think she cared. Her time was almost up. His gratitude would do nothing for her now.

He didn’t _think_ Gavroche was in any immediate danger. At least, he _hoped_ that he wasn’t. He was just a kid, for fuck’s sake! He hoped Sloan wasn’t _that_ sick.

Though, he unfortunately knew from personal experience that some people _were_.

He put the thought out of his mind. That phase of his life was over.

But was it really?

He had crept away from where Cosette was reading under a large oak tree in the park, claiming to need the restroom, but had really dunked behind a tree several yards away to have a minor panic attack.

Because that life wasn’t really over, now, was it? It wasn’t like he could let _Cosette_ become Sloan’s little concubine. He’d have to make sure that Sloan chose _him_. Cosette was too good, too sweet, too _innocent_ , for that to happen to her. It’d be easy. If he seemed willing, Sloan was sure to pick him. After all, he’d have to report the defilement of a pure omega in his care. It was suspicion that a man like him didn’t need.

But Grantaire _really_ wasn’t sure if he could handle it again.

Hadn’t he suffered enough? Hadn’t his body been used by enough men? Hadn’t he had enough people hold him down as his entranced wasn’t roughly breached?

And _of course_ it was always rough. It _always_ hurt. The Thenardiers had told him it was his own fault. If he hadn’t _fought_ his customers so much, they would have given him gentler clients.

But the thought of someone being fucking _gentle_ with him as they essentially paid his “owners” for the right to fucking _rape_ him had been enough to turn his stomach even at a young age.

Which was probably why the Thenardiers had pumped him full of so much cheap alcohol.

Sloan didn’t seem like the type of man who liked to be rough. He was the type who liked to play the gentle lover. Grantaire didn’t know if he could play along with that. Didn’t know if he could resist fighting back.

He glanced around the tree to peek at Cosette as she turned a page in her book. She was probably exactly Sloan’s type. Sure, she wasn’t a pushover, but her dainty figure wasn’t that of a fighter. She had spirit, but Grantaire was afraid it’d be all too quickly crushed.

And he would do anything to stop that from happening.

He choked back a sob and buried his face into the rough bark of the tree.

It wasn’t _fair_.

“Are you playing hide and seek?” a jovial voice asked him suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts and causing him to twist his upper body around to see.

He wasn’t sure which of the smiling omegas had addressed him. They were upwind from him, so he couldn’t _smell_ that they were omegas, but their small stature left little doubt. One had long strawberry blond curls and was giving him a painfully earnest look. The other had shorter, dark curls and smiling at him in an infuriatingly understanding way.

Fuck both of them, he decided, turning back around and staring at the tree bark again.

“Go away,” he said in a flat tone. “I’m having a life crisis.”

 “Oh, honey,” was his only warning before arms wrapped around him from behind and a small figure drew him into a fierce embrace.

In his surprise, he took a second to be proud of himself for not tensing at the touch. Cosette had managed to train that automatic reaction to affectionate touching out of him after all, he guessed.

He saw the dark-haired omega leaned against the side of his tree out of the corner of his eye. This close, he could scent him and he immediately felt bad about cursing his understanding smile earlier.

He was defiled too.

“You’ll have to excuse Jehan,” he said with a fond look at his companion. “If you really wanted him to go away, you’d have to look a little less pitiful.”

Grantaire snorted before turning around and carefully extracting himself from the smaller omega’s arms.

“Do you always assault strangers who are having a bad day?” he asked in bemusement.

“At least he hasn’t twirled you around yet,” the other one said, smirking. “Made me dizzy when we first met.”

“You enjoyed it,” Jehan said matter-of-factly, pulling away from Grantaire and smiling up at him. “Feeling better?”

Grantaire laughed because, for some reason, he did. Something about the two omegas put him at ease.

“I’m Courfeyrac, by the way,” the other omega said. “And you already know this is Jehan.”

“Grantaire,” he said, not really sure why he was introducing himself to them. “Thank for the hug, but I’ve got to go now.”

“Wait!” Jehan cried, grabbing his arm and pouting up at him. “Can’t we please help you?”

“I really doubt you can,” he replied mournfully.

“Well maybe you could help us then,” Courfeyrac said, shooting Jehan a look. “We’re looking for someone. Our friend’s brother.”

Grantaire looked between them suspiciously. They didn’t seem the type to let go of something that easily. Then again, they looked honest.

“What’s he look like?” he asked finally, sighing in defeat.

Courfeyrac grinned at him. “Well, he’s small, blond hair, blue eyes, omega. His name is Gavroche.”

Grantaire narrowed his eyes. This felt like too much of a coincidence to not be a trick of some sort. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Eponine,” Jehan answered before leaning forward eagerly. “Do you know her? Have you seen Gavroche?”

He chewed the inside of his lip thoughtfully. There was a chance the two of them were honestly trying to help Eponine locate Gavroche. She had left before the boy had manifested and she’d probably be worried sick if she knew. And if they were, then Grantaire would have one less person to worry about under Sloan’s care.

But there was also a chance that these two were working for the Thenardiers. He wanted to trust them, but he wasn’t sure if he could take that risk. It was very unlikely that the Thenardiers had two omegas they were willing to trust to come back on their own. Unless they had sent a couple of their handlers out with them.

Grantaire looked around surreptitiously but saw no one else around. He shifted his gaze back to the two omegas watching him closely now, obviously aware that he was debating whether he could trust them.

Jehan’s presence finally convinced him that this wasn’t the Thenardiers. There was no way they had an un-defiled omega in their grasps. And the smaller man had been close enough to him that he would have smelled the telltale synthetic smell of a pure omega scent disguise. It was almost impossible for the underground market of scent suppressants to make one that imitated a pure omega.

“Yeah, I know her,” he answered finally. “And Gavroche is here with me. Come on,” he beckoned, leading them over to where he had left Cosette sitting.

She and Gavroche were both there now, standing under the tree and shifting anxiously. He could see relief flood Cosette’s face as he came into sight. Guilt spiked through him. He’d obviously been gone longer than he realized.

Gavroche spun around and scowled at him when he got closer. “Where were you?” he asked in an accusing tone. “And who are they?”

“Sorry,” he said, giving them both a sheepish look. “And this is Jehan and Courfeyrac. They’re friends of your sister.”

“Eponine!” Gavroche cried, his face lighting up. “I tried to find her when I left home, but I couldn’t find her.”

“She’s been looking for you too,” Jehan said, smiling down at him gently.

“We are actually headed to a meeting where she’ll be. Well, we’re actually a little late, which is probably worrying everyone sick,” Courfeyrac said, grinning sheepishly. “But would you like to come with us? All of you, I mean,” he was quick to add.

Grantaire looked from Gavroche’s excited face to Cosette’s curious one. “What kind of meeting?” he asked warily.

“We’re a political group fighting for gender equality,” Jehan explained. “We’d actually love for you to join us.”

Grantaire had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Omegas and female alphas fighting for gender equality. That was sure to be futile. But he knew by Cosette’s face that she was interested in hearing more, and it’d be good to reunited Gavroche with his sister, if only to get him away from Sloan.

He sighed to himself before forcing a smile. “Lead the way.”

#

They were not being productive.

Of course, Enjolras really couldn’t blame the unproductivity of the meeting thus far on anyone when he himself was so tense.

Courfeyrac and Jehan were late.

He _knew_ he should have _insisted_ on someone accompanying them to the omega home where they thought Gavroche lived. The way Jehan had described the caretaker there and the looks that he gave them both…

It sent fierce frissons of protective anger through him.

He tried to control his instinctive protectiveness of the two. If he couldn’t treat them as equals, he had no business fighting for their equality. He’d be a hypocrite of the worst kind.

Intellectually, he knew that his protectiveness stemmed more from how he knew others treated Courfeyrac and Jehan because they were omegas, and _not_ from the fact that they were omegas. He also knew that to fight for acceptance of all genders meant that he couldn’t deny the base instincts of alphas to protect anymore than he could deny the base instincts of omegas to care. Equality didn’t mean ignoring the differences of the genders but accepting them.

It didn’t mean that his instincts didn’t rankle Enjolras. He _wanted_ to protect Jehan and Courfeyrac, but they weren’t _his_ to protect. They didn’t _belong_ to anyone.

But they _needed_ protection…

If Courfeyrac and Jehan took much longer, he was sure he would eventually argue himself into an ethical conundrum. He had a tendency to do that when stressed. Combeferre was forever talking him down when he got worked up.

Unfortunately, Combeferre currently seemed tenser than him at the moment. Considering the older man was protective of the people he cared about in general, Enjolras was sure his alpha instincts to protect omegas.

Thankfully, Courfeyrac and Jehan walked in before Enjolras could let his brain run away with him.

Bahorel and Combeferre jumped up immediately when they entered. Eponine, though, reached them first, pushing past them to scoop up the small blond boy that walked in behind them with two other people.

Enjolras got up as well, curious about the other newcomers, especially if they were interested in joining Les Amis.

He assumed before approaching them that the pair was a beta and omega. The female was definitely omega, smaller than even Jehan, blonde, and dainty. The male was taller, around the same height as Joly, with dark curls and… extremely blue eyes.

He wasn’t sure why the eyes struck him, but he quickly pushed it out of his mind. Especially as he got closer. The way the man was gazing at them all suspiciously, combined with his scent, was enough to tell Enjolras that this was an omega who had been hurt in the past.

“Grantaire!” Eponine cried suddenly, obviously just noticing him as she let go of the boy, who was surely Gavroche. “You’re supposed to be in hiding,” she said accusingly.

The omega, Grantaire, tensed even further. “That didn’t really work out,” he muttered bitterly.

“Lucky for Gavroche and me,” the female omega said pleasantly, but with steel in her voice.

Enjolras approved of her immediately.

“I’m Enjolras,” he said, seeing as how Courfeyrac and Jehan were too busy being fussed over by Bahorel and Combeferre to introduce them.

“Cosette,” she replied with a pretty smile. “This is Grantaire. Gavroche has been living in the same omega home with us for the past couple of months.”

“The one with the creepy beta caretaker Jehan told us about?” Joly asked as everyone gathered around the newcomers.

“Why do you think we don’t spend much time there?” she said with a smirk. Enjolras noticed, though, that Grantaire’s face darkened at the mention of the caretaker.

“So you guys advocate for equality?” the other omega said, changing the topic and raising an eyebrow in challenge as he looked at Enjolras. “You do know how pointless that is, right?”

“It is not!” Enjolras argued immediately, indignant at the suggestion. “As long as omegas are condemned to death by society, how can fighting for their rights be _pointless_?”

“And you think the handful of you are enough to change society?” he scoffed.

“Change has to begin somewhere,” he pointed out. “Even if we only make a small difference, we’ve still made a difference.”

“Society is never going to view omegas any differently,” Grantaire stated, a bitter look in his blue eyes as he looked at him.

“You can’t know that!” Enjolras countered. “If we can gather together, alpha, omega, and beta, and work towards a common goal, why should society be any different? And how can we sit back and do nothing as those that society shuns are left to die?”

“Society shuns them because of biology,” the other man pointed out. “You can’t change biology.”

“But you can change your reaction to it!” he said in frustration. “We are not animals! We can rise above are baser instincts!”

“Can we? Can you?” he questioned with a mocking smile. “Are you saying that you _weren’t_ worried about Courfeyrac and Jehan being late? They seemed to think you would be.”

“I don’t need biology to worry about my friends,” he defended, hating that the man had someone managed to hone in on his own doubts.

“But would you be _as_ worried if they weren’t omegas?”

“If I worry more it’s because society treats them more harshly!”

“You’re asking society to treat them as equals when you yourself are incapable of the same!” Grantaire accused, a smirk playing on his lips.

Enjolras flushed. How was it that this man he just met was able to cut him so deeply? He glanced around for help from his friends, but the rest of the group had moved further into the café, leaving Enjolras and Grantaire to their argument. He took a deep breath to regain control of his emotions and looked at Grantaire.

“I know omegas are just as capable as alphas and betas,” he said as calmly as possible, trying to keep in my mind that this was one of the people he was _fighting_ for and Grantaire’s background obviously made him extremely suspicious of alphas in general. “And I know alpha females are anything but useless. And I _believe_ that society will someday recognize that as well.”

Grantaire gave him a bitter smile. “People don’t change.”

“I think people will surprise you,” Enjolras said fervently, wanting so badly to prove him wrong. He wanted to see Grantaire smile with real happiness, and not the bitter thing turned on him now. He wanted those blue eyes to spark with mirth instead of mocking sarcasm.

But, despite his cynical disposition, he had to admire Grantaire standing up and arguing with him. Most omegas wouldn’t be so bold with an alpha. Hell, even Courfeyrac and Jehan, who both knew that they had all the alphas in Les Amis wrapped around their fingers, weren’t so bold.

But it only made Enjolras’s desire to convince him that the world could change even greater. It made Enjolras want to change the world _for him_. He wanted a world where no one would try to break this man’s spirit just because of his _gender_.

“We’ll see, Apollo,” he replied with a sardonic smile.

“That’s not my name,” he snapped with a roll of his eyes, not really understanding why he was letting this man get under his skin so much.

“No, but it does suit you,” Grantaire said with a laugh. “Now come on, your friends are waiting for you. They can’t save the world without their fearless leader.”

“We don’t have a leader,” he growled but followed the omega to where the rest of Les Amis was gathered.

Grantaire took a seat between Cosette and Jehan, and Enjolras took his own seat between Combeferre and Courfeyrac, still scowling.

He _would_ change the omega’s mind. He would show the man that there _were_ good people in this world.

Enjolras glanced at Combeferre, and started as he saw his best friend was glaring at him. Shame filled him as he realized how badly he had probably acted. Grantaire obviously had a past. One that was probably filled with alphas trying to tell him what to do, how to act, and what to believe. Combeferre’s glare was a clear rebuke of his actions, one that Enjolras clearly deserved.

He would make it up to Grantaire. He would still try to prove that society could change, but he would try to be less forceful and more persuasive.

And really, it would probably be good to have someone who would help him hone his arguments. Change wouldn’t come with force. He’d have to change people’s minds, which required a more subtle touch.

Tbc…


	7. Chapter Seven

Grantaire had no fucking clue what the fuck was wrong with him.

Every time he saw Enjolras, he couldn’t stop himself from _arguing_ with him.

If he had had it his way, he probably wouldn’t have gone back after that first meeting. But Cosette had been determined to go back. He couldn’t say no. What was he supposed to do? Let her go _alone_?

But, fuck, not even five minutes after he met the alpha, he _had_ to pick an argument with him. It was like he couldn’t help himself.

One look at Enjolras, standing there all perfect and golden with his righteousness and optimism and _goodness_ and Grantaire was absolutely lost. He didn’t know how to handle this… attraction, though the word seemed somehow insufficient to describe the pull Enjolras had to him. His previous experiences left him floundering now. The best he could usually hope for from alphas in the past was that they would overlook him, ignore him. Every instinct he had developed, even while posing as a beta for a short while, screamed at him to be insignificant around alphas. Don’t give them a reason to notice you, a little voice in his head whispered.

Which was why it was so odd to have that flipped around Enjolras. To go from trying to go unnoticed to doing everything possible to gain the alpha’s attention.

And boy, did he have Enjolras’s attention. Enjolras probably _hated_ him, but he definitely had his attention.

And he _couldn’t stop_.

Every meeting, without fail, this is where they ended. Debating fiercely as each of their friends gradually left the Musain. Hell, even Cosette had stopped waiting around for him. By silent agreement, they always met at the library before it closed at nine. Neither of them wanting to go back to the home alone, and both knowing it wasn’t safe to wonder the streets after dark. He had worried at first about Cosette walking alone, but she usually got one of the others to either walk with her or drive her.

Their argument was going on longer than usual tonight. Not surprising considering they had somehow gotten to the topic of bonding, a topic that obviously rubbed Grantaire the wrong way.

“Can you honestly say that you would stoop so low as to bond with a defiled omega?” Grantaire asked, voice dripping with disdain.

“Of course I would!” Enjolras cried with such vehemence that it took Grantaire a little by surprise. “Though I don’t believe it would be stooping low or that such omegas are _defiled_ as society calls them. But do you honestly think that something as _petty_ as societal stigma would make me sit by and do _nothing_ as someone I _loved_ —”

He cut himself off as a pained expression crossed his face, as if he could not bear to even think of the hypothetical death. His emotional response confused Grantaire for only a moment before he realized.

He felt so stupid that he hadn’t seen it before. The other omega had told him how Enjolras had saved his life and had taken him in. And he had seen how close the two were with his own eyes. _Of course_ Enjolras would bond with a defiled omega.

He was spared having to come up with something more to say by Enjolras’s cell phone ringing.

Enjolras glanced at the screen before shooting Grantaire an apologetic look and answering.

“Courf?” Why did his insides ache all of a sudden? “No, he’s here.” Why were they talking about _him_? “I’ll tell him.” He was very confused now. “Okay, bye.”

Grantaire looked at him expectantly.

“Cosette was worried when you didn’t show up at the library,” he explained with a puzzled look on his face. “She’s at our apartment now and says she’ll wait for you before going back to the home. Why were you meeting at the library?”

Grantaire shrugged. “We always meet there before going back if we’re separated.”

“Why not just go home and wait for each other there?”

“Neither of us really feels comfortable going back there alone,” he said absently as he craned his neck to see the clock on the wall. “Fuck! It’s almost ten! We’re not going to have enough time to get back before curfew.”

He couldn’t have Sloan reporting him for truancy. If he did, the cops were sure to see through the flimsy story he told the caretaker. They’d find the shampoo he had left and then they’d lock him away forever.

He couldn’t risk that.

“Don’t worry. I’ll drive you,” Enjolras said, flashing him a smile as he brandished his keys. “Let’s swing by and get Cosette and I’ll have you both back in no time.”

“You don’t have to…” he said, putting up a token protest.

“I want to. Now come on.”

He didn’t argue with him anymore, just followed him quietly to his car. He wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Of course, maybe he _should_ have, considering as soon they were moving, Enjolras asked, “Why are neither of you comfortable going to the home alone?”

Grantaire internally cursed his big mouth. Why was it impossible to control what came out of his mouth around this beautiful alpha?

“Well you’ve heard how creepy the caretaker is,” he replied, trying for nonchalant but feeling as if he missed it by miles.

“Has he hurt you?” Enjolras asked after a slight pause, voice slightly trembling as he tried to suppress his righteous anger from leaking into his voice. Grantaire rolled his eyes at the question. Enjolras, champion of gender equality, would definitely have a problem with a beta caretaker mistreating his omega charges.

“No, he hasn’t hurt us,” he answered, silently adding a _not yet_. “Cosette and I try to steer clear of him as much as possible though. No need to poke the dragon by being a nuisance, right?”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about nuisance in your own home,” Enjolras said through gritted teeth.

Grantaire laughed humorlessly at that. “I don’t have a home, Apollo. Granted, where I stay may be called _a_ home for lack of a better word, but it isn’t _my_ home. Never had one, and probably never will,” he finished bitterly.

There was a brief period after he left Patron Minette when he thought he could make a home for himself, somewhere he could feel safe and be himself, but that was a pipe dream and nothing more.

Enjolras frowned fiercely at that, pulling over in front of his building and looking at Grantaire seriously. “You deserve a home, ‘Taire. And I will do everything within my power to ensure you get one,” he vowed.

Grantaire swallowed thickly against the emotions that welled within him at Enjolras’s promise. He _knew_ Enjolras would say that to anybody, especially someone he considered a friend, because Enjolras was a spectacularly good person. He _knew_ that it didn’t mean that he held any sort of _special_ regard for Grantaire. Hell, he knew that Enjolras already had Courfeyrac and would never be the type to leave his omega.

But all that fantastic knowledge didn’t stop the warm feeling spreading through him, making him unable to speak.

Enjolras, luckily, seemed to understand that Grantaire had no answer for such a statement and just nodded, opening the door to go grab Cosette from the apartment. “And don’t call me Apollo,” he said as an afterthought before closing the door, making sure to lock it before entering his building.

Grantaire knew, in that moment, that he was utterly screwed.

He very much doubted that his soul would accept any bond that wasn’t with the golden alpha who was already promised to someone else. Not that he expected anyone to actually want to bond with him. Now, though, that option had thoroughly been done away with, and death loomed inevitably on the horizon.

That cheerful thought was enough to make him crave the detached feelings he knew alcohol could give him, and he cringed away from that thought, for once grateful society’s patronizing treatment of omegas prevented him from buying alcohol, not that he had any money to buy it _with_ , of course.

He shook his maudlin mood off vigorously, knowing it would do him no good. It wasn’t as if anything had changed, anyway. Death had always been in his near future. He had accepted that a long time ago.

Maybe the difference, though, was that he would rather have a different future now.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that as it wasn’t long before Enjolras was back with Cosette in tow. He looked back sheepishly at Cosette as she slid into the backseat.

“Sorry leave you at the library alone,” he said, knowing she was probably worried out her mind.

Instead of the scolding he was expecting, she smiled brightly at him. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you were with Enjolras. Feuilly kept me company and drove me back. I _would_ be mad if I had had to walk all the way back to this side of town.”

Enjolras paused as he put the car and reversed and glanced at Grantaire suspiciously. “Just how far is the library from the Musain?”

Grantaire wasn’t surprised Enjolras didn’t know where the library was. He had been to the apartment he shared with Combeferre and Courfeyrac. There were books tucked away everywhere they could be. Grantaire strongly suspected that Enjolras and Combeferre both just bought whatever book they wanted and couldn’t find at the university library.

“It’s not that far,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe fifteen blocks?”

“You walk fifteen blocks alone after you leave the Musain?” Enjolras asked tensely. Grantaire could see his jaw clenching as he pulled out into the street. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have driven you.”

“It’s not that far,” he replied with another shrug.

“That’s not the point,” Enjolras snapped.

Grantaire just raised an eyebrow at his glare. Enjolras glare had never quite affected him as it should. It definitely had an effect on him, but probably not the one the alpha wanted though.

Enjolras sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound that harsh.”

That was a first. Even with all the arguing the two of them did, Enjolras never apologized. Not that an apology was ever needed, but still.

Grantaire didn’t really know how to respond.

Thankfully, Cosette saved them from descending into awkward silence. “You’ll need to turn left at the next light,” she said, leaning forward. “So what were you two talking about that had you so late tonight?”

“Bonding,” he replied absently.

“What?!” she nearly squealed, eyes going wide as she looked between the two of them.

Grantaire caught on to what it sounded like and blushed fiercely. “Not like that, you crazy person,” he said hastily before Enjolras could say anything about how ridiculous the notion was. He’d rather not have confirmation, thank you very much.

“Oh, right,” she said, smiling at him apologetically. “Sorry.”

They settled into silence, during which Grantaire was acutely aware of Enjolras sneaking glances at him. He was relieved, then, when the home came into sight.

“It’s right here on the right,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt hastily.

As soon as the car was stopped, Cosette leaped out lightly. Grantaire went to follow her as quickly as possible, but Enjolras stopped here with a hand on his.

“Grantaire, I don’t mean to be an overprotective alpha, and I _do_ know that you are capable of taking care of yourself, but will you _please_ allow me to drive you back from now on?” he asked, throwing Grantaire for a moment.

That was not what he had expected Enjolras to want to talk about. Considering the alternative, this was infinitely easier.

“If it’ll make you feel better, Apollo,” he replied with a soft smile. “And don’t beat yourself up. It is okay to be protective of your friends, omega or not. I know I gave you a hard time about it before, but you shouldn’t take everything I say so seriously.”

Enjolras opened his mouth to respond before closing it again. He looked torn for a second before shaking his head with a smile. “I take everything about you seriously, ‘Taire. But you better go. It’s five til eleven and Cosette is waiting for you anxiously at the door. Goodnight.”

“Night, Apollo,” he said, reluctantly leaving the car and walking up to the door where Cosette was waiting. He turned to watch Enjolras leave, but the alpha kept idling by the curve. Grantaire rolled his eyes as he realized he wasn’t going to leave until he saw that they were both safely inside.

It was unnecessary, but it still caused a warm bubble to rise in his chest.

He raised a hand in farewell before falling Cosette inside. He didn’t make it two feet into the home before he smelled it.

Omega in heat.

Shit, Dominique had gone into heat. Cosette shared an alarmed look with him.

He supposed he was lucky she had held out this long. It had been nearly a month since she told him she thought it would come soon. It was just… he wasn’t prepared! Well, he knew could never be _completely_ prepared for Sloan to make him his concubine, he just… thought he’d have more time with Enjolras.

“Come on,” Cosette said firmly, grabbing Grantaire’s hand and dragging him back outside. Enjolras, he noted, had already left. Probably for the best, though he couldn’t help wishing he had could see him one last time.

Once Dominique burned out, Grantaire knew he wouldn’t be seeing any of Les Amis anymore, if only because he was too ashamed to.

“Where are we going?” he asked in confusion as Cosette continued to pull him down the street. “It’s past curfew!”

“We are reporting Sloan to the police,” she explained, determination in her eyes as she glanced back at Grantaire. “Don’t think I didn’t know that you were planning on giving yourself over to that man just to save me. I won’t let you do that, ‘Taire!”

He planted his feet and made her stop. “Cosette, we can’t go to the police! What about Sloan’s bloodhound inspector friend?”

“He may be a bloodhound, but he wouldn’t put friendship above the law,” Cosette stated. “Will you just trust me? If he catches Sloan ‘helping’ Dominique through her heat, he’ll throw him in prison himself.”

“And where are we supposed to go _after_ Sloan is thrown into prison?” Grantaire asked. “We’ll be separated! And there’s a chance I’ll be thrown into a home that the Thenardiers keep an eye on. Do you really think Sloan would be worse than _that_?”

“We have friends who will help us now!” she argued. “We’ll sign ourselves out of the system completely.”

“Supporting two helpless omegas is a lot to ask of friends we’ve only known a month,” he pointed out. “Have you talked to any of them about this?”

“Of course, I did! Feuilly is the one who suggested it,” she said in exasperation.

That he did not doubt. He had seen how Cosette and the red-headed alpha were together. “Feuilly probably suggested that _you_ leave to live with _him_ ,” he said, but considerably calmer now. As long as Cosette had an option, he could try and make do on his own.

He didn’t need alcohol anymore, and he still had the bottle of shampoo that he could sneak back to get. He could survive on his own.

“Well, yes,” she said sheepishly. “But I _know_ that as soon as Enjolras hears the situation, he’ll offer you his place.”

“You’ve got the wrong idea about Enjolras and me,” he said, heartsick at having to admit it. “He’s with Courfeyrac.”

She frowned. “Oh. I just thought… Are you sure?”

He swallowed the lump that had settled in his throat. “Yeah.”

Cosette looked nearly as heartbroken as he was at the admission, but pulled herself together rather quickly. “That doesn’t matter. You’re still good friends. He’ll make sure you have a place to stay, even if it’s not with him.”

“I can take care of myself,” he said firmly. “Now that Gavroche is living with Eponine, the only reason I was sticking around the home was for you anyway. With you living happily with Feuilly, I can strike out on my own again.”

“You are not leaving us,” she ordered sternly, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You are our family and we stick together!”

He nodded because he really didn’t know how else to respond to this frightening version of Cosette. He let her lead him to the police station in silence, plotting all the way.

He wouldn’t be a burden on his newfound friends. He didn’t know how to handle that. He didn’t know how he was going to sneak away, or even how he was going to find the willpower to leave Enjolras voluntarily, but he had to find a way.

Tbc…


	8. Chapter Eight

He had kept quiet as Cosette told everything she knew about Sloan to the stone-faced Inspector Javert, nodding in agreement whenever his grey eyes flickered to him. His reason for keeping silent was two-fold. For one, Cosette, as the picture-perfect pure omega with her wide, honest blue eyes, was much more likely to be believed than he was. For another, it gave him more time to plan.

Problem was, he couldn’t decide on _any_ plan until he knew what this inspector would ultimately do.

They had been left sitting alone in the front of the station as Javert went to personally investigate the situation. Grantaire was fairly certain of what the inspector would find at the home, but he wasn’t completely positive it would be enough proof to put Sloan away.

However, he knew Cosette wouldn’t be going back at the very least, so that was one thing he didn’t have to worry about. Just her reporting Sloan would be enough to allow her to bypass the caretaker in signing herself out of the system. Sloan being arrested would just be icing on the cake in that respect. She’d call Feuilly, have him pick her up, and be well onto her happily ever after.

Grantaire would sign himself out as well, but that was where his planning go a little fuzzy, which was unfortunate, because it was the part that really mattered.

If Javert insisted that he prove he had someone to support him or that he could support himself before he removed himself from the system, he was in trouble. He couldn’t very well tell the inspector that he planned on sneaking back to Sloan’s place for his scent-dampening shampoo and try to make it on his own disguised as a beta.

He was sure he could make it this time. Without his alcohol dependency, it’d be almost easy even. Sure, he wouldn’t have the start up cash he had stolen from the Thenardiers, but he could make do. It couldn’t be too hard to sleep on the streets for a week or so. As long as he smelled like a beta, no one would mess with him too much. Of course, that required figuring out a place to shower, but he was sure it couldn’t be that hard to find a place he could either freely use or at least sneak into.

Grantaire was sure he’d have to stop going to Les Amis meetings, though. For one, he knew that his new friends were extremely good people and would want to help him, but he also refused to be a burden on them. Besides, he was fairly sure that they would be disgusted with his decision to hide as a beta. Enjolras especially would be furious and tell him that he was playing into the society that was perpetuating inequality and causing the deaths of thousands of omegas each year.

“I know you,” a rough voice said, breaking through his thoughts as he realized the voice was talking to him. The man was sitting across from them on a wooden bench, hands cuffed behind his back. He shot Grantaire a menacing grin that looked even more dangerous beneath his scruffy black beard.

Grantaire tried to keep his breathing calm as the man glanced at the officer chatting with the woman behind the front desk, the one who was obviously supposed to be keeping an eye on the arrestee, but he knew he was dangerously close from hyperventilating at the leering look in the man’s eyes.

He didn’t really recognize the man, but he was sure he knew where the man recognized _him_ from.

“Ignore him,” Cosette whispered, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

“Used to ask for you special at Patron Minette,” the man went on, eyes glinting as he realized just how frightened Grantaire was.

This was fucking ridiculous. He had no reason to be afraid of a man in handcuffs in the middle of a police station. This man could not hurt him.

He couldn’t stop _shaking_ though.

The man was taking a perverse pleasure in his fear. “You were always so feisty. Most of the other whores would just lie there and take it, but not you, no. You had to fight me. Do you know how big a turn on that is? How heady it is to know the person under you is completely powerless? Watching you sob as I pounded—”

“Officer!” Cosette’s voice cut him off sharply. “This man is harassing us!”

The officer sprang away from the front desk and quickly hauled the prisoner up, muttering a hasty apology to Cosette and asking her if she was alright. She merely glared at him even as she wrapped an arm around a violently shaking Grantaire and pulled him close.

“Fuck,” he breathed, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. “Shit. I’m sorry, but… fuck.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed, running a hand up and down his back.

No, it fucking wasn’t.

Javert’s return caused him to have to straighten up and pretend as if nothing was wrong. It was hard because suddenly, even the inside of a fucking police station felt unsafe to him. Memories of his time at Patron-Minette were flashing in front of his eyes. The leering eyes. The rough touches. Tears streaming down his face as he choked on a cock. Struggling weakly as he was breached over and over and over again.

Even here, every glance his way felt threatening. Even the beta inspector’s clinical gaze felt malicious.

Fuck, why did this have to happen _now_? He had kept everything at bay up until now. It hadn’t mattered anymore. The past was the past and he had gotten away. Why did the floodgates have to open _now_?

He tried to push it aside and focus on what was going on. Apparently Sloan had been arrested.

“You both have somewhere to go?” Javert was asking, looking at Grantaire suspiciously.

Cosette nodded. “We both have alphas,” she lied smoothly. “If I could use a phone, they could be here soon.”

Javert nodded, still looking at him with narrowed eyes. “Are you alright, Mr. Grantaire?” he asked. He nodded weakly, but apparently didn’t convince the inspector. “Are you afraid of your alpha?” he pressed on, misinterpreting Grantaire’s behavior. “We could find an alternative home for you.”

His eyes widened and he shook his head, opening his mouth to try and explain, but unable to make his voice work. He looked at Cosette pleadingly and she was quick to jump to his rescue.

“I’m sorry, inspector, but a man under arrest was heckling Grantaire while we waited and his still shaken from the encounter,” she said, shooting Grantaire a worried look.

Javert didn’t really look convinced and Grantaire tried to pull it together. It wouldn’t help his plans if Javert thought his non-existent alpha was abusing him. He wasn’t really sure what police protocol was on putting abused omegas in protective custody against their wishes, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“Grantaire, why don’t you start the paperwork to sign yourself out while I use the phone?”

He nodded in what hopefully was an eager manner before taking a clipboard from Javert. The inspector gave him one last searching look before proceeding to ignore him.

His handwriting was barely legible as he filled in the required information on the form, inordinately grateful that a lot of it had been prefilled for him. He barely noticed Cosette returning and taking a form of her own. It took all his concentration to read and understand what was in front of him. He paused only when he got to the part of the form that asked for his new address.

He stared at the blank lines for what felt like forever, treacherous tears beginning to form in his eyes.

How was he supposed to do this? One encounter with a former john in probably the safest environment eve, and he was falling to pieces. All he wanted to do right now was curl up in a gutter somewhere with a bottle and drink until he felt nothing. How was he supposed to fool this cop into letting him go off on his own? Moreover, how was he supposed to fool _Cosette_?

“Is there a problem?” the cool voice of Javert asked.

He swallowed down the fear and shame welling within. “I don’t know the address,” he answered shakily.

“Your alpha can fill it in when he gets here,” the inspector said dismissively. “Just sign the bottom.”

Grantaire signed with a sinking feeling of dread in his stomach. There would be no alpha coming for him, no alpha to complete the form. That meant Grantaire wasn’t getting out of the system. He went to hand the form back to Javert, but Cosette intercepted it before he could.

“I know the address,” she said with a reassuring smile. “I can read a lot better than him, I’m afraid,” she explained to the inspector, who just shrugged as if it were unimportant. She signed her own form and completed his before handing both to Javert.

He gave them both a cursory look before nodding. “You can wait in the front of the station for your alphas. Do not leave without having them sign for you at the front desk.”

Sign for them. Like they were fucking property.

If it were possible, Grantaire felt even sicker at the thought.

With supreme effort, he managed to keep his legs from buckling beneath him as he walked to the front of the station. He plopped back down on the wooden bench they were on before and wrapped his arms around himself. He felt helpless and vulnerable, sitting in the exact same spot as he had when the dam he had carefully built around his memories ruptured.

Worst of all, he didn’t have a plan. Didn’t know what would happen from here. He assumed Cosette had called Feuilly to collect her, but what was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to go? He had no one to call. No alpha to rush in and save the day.

Maybe he could sneak away once Cosette left with Feuilly. He was sure he could get them to leave him behind, could convince them that his ride was on its way. He might have to appeal to Feuilly’s protective instincts with Cosette, but he was sure he could do it. And the lady at the front desk didn’t look super watchful.

He hugged himself tighter as he thought about what awaited him on the dark streets beyond those doors. He might not be able to make it back to the home at all. He shuddered at the thought but didn’t dwell on it. If he did, there might still be police at the home. Hell, they might have already found his shampoo.

Shit, shit, shit.

Things had happened so fast. He hadn’t had time to keep up. He hadn’t had time to _plan_.

Not that it really mattered. All his plans had gone to shit lately anyway.

“Cosette!” a relieved voice cried. Grantaire didn’t have to look up to know that Feuilly had arrived. Cosette was on her feet and greeting the alpha in a minute, leaving Grantaire sitting alone on the bench, not that he begrudged her this at all.

Without her steady presence beside him, he felt even more exposed. He pulled his feet onto the bench and hugged his knees to his chest, hiding his face from the world. He knew this wasn’t going to convince either of them to leave him here alone, but he really didn’t care anymore.

He didn’t know if he could summon the courage to step outside alone at the moment, let alone carry out any grand scheme of living life as a beta.

He felt someone settle down next to him on the bench, but with his head buried in his knees, he couldn’t smell whether it was Cosette or Feuilly.

“Grantaire,” a voice that belonged to neither of them said.

His head shot up as he registered who the owner of that voice was and stared in shock for a moment at the golden alpha sitting next to him before instinctively throwing himself at Enjolras, clinging desperately to his shirt as he hid in face in his neck. Enjolras wrapped his arms tightly around him, pulling him even closer.

He knew he was acting pathetically. Knew that Enjolras already had an omega and taking advantage of him like this was wrong.

But held tightly by the other man, he finally felt _safe_.

#

Grantaire had been quiet on the drive over. Enjolras was worried. He didn’t know exactly what had happened. Cosette had only told him that they couldn’t stay at the home anymore and that Grantaire had had an unfortunate run-in at the police station. That seemed like an understatement given the way Grantaire was acting.

He was as quiet as possible as led the omega into his apartment, arm still wrapped securely around Grantaire. The other man had clung to him ever since he had gotten to the police station. It hadn’t been easy driving, but Grantaire had eventually been content to grip his hand across the console.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy having the omega in his arms. It felt wrong, though, taking advantage of his vulnerable state. Grantaire had latched onto the first friendly alpha that had approached him. It didn’t mean anything so Enjolras refused to get his hopes up.

Why would Grantaire want him anyway? Grantaire had made it quite clear that he thought Enjolras’s activism was pointless. Take away Les Amis from him, and what was he really? A socially awkward alpha who had no idea how to relate to the rest of the world.

And Grantaire was… Grantaire was amazing. He was beautiful, intelligent, kind. And he had such strength. The world had obviously thrown so much at him and he had refused to just roll over and take it. He had fought, and he had survived.

Any alpha that looked on this wonderful omega and only saw his so-called defilement was a blind idiot.

He led Grantaire to his bedroom, careful to make as little noise as possible since he knew both Combeferre and Courfeyrac were sleeping.

“You can take my bed,” he said softly. “The bathroom is through that door. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”

His words broke the omega out of his stupor. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the couch, Apollo,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “I don’t need a bed. I’ll take the couch for the night and figure out tomorrow how to get out of your hair. I promise I won’t be here long.”

“You’ll stay here until you have somewhere better to go,” Enjolras said firmly. “And there’s no way I’m going to let you sleep on the couch while I take the bed. If you insist on the couch, I’ll have to take the floor. I refuse to sleep somewhere more comfortable than you. I hope you’ll take the bed, though, to save my back a little pain.”

Grantaire glared at him. “I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”

Enjolras almost smiled. It might be a stupid fight, but he was so happy to see life back in the other man to care. “The only way I’m sleeping in that bed is if you’re with me.”

“Fine,” Grantaire snapped, pulling the covers roughly down and crawling underneath them. “Are you coming or not?”

Enjolras froze. He hadn’t really expected Grantaire to take him up on that, but he couldn’t really back down now. If this is what it took for Grantaire to be comfortable, well, it was hardly a sacrifice for him. He’d doubt he’d sleep very well with Grantaire out of his sight.

He turned off the lights before slipping into bed after Grantaire. He took care to keep some space between the two, not wanting to crowd the omega or make him feel uncomfortable. He bit his lip in indecision. He desperately needed to know that the other man was okay, but he didn’t want to pressure him for answers.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally, figuring the question was vague enough that Grantaire only had to answer what he wanted.

The omega was quiet for a few moments, almost making Enjolras wonder if he had already fallen asleep.

“I don’t know,” Grantaire answered finally, still keeping his back to the alpha. “I thought I had put it behind me,” he continued quietly, sounding so hurt that Enjolras wanted to wrap him in his arms again, but he wasn’t quite sure he’d be welcome. “But when I saw him and he started taunting me, I…” his voice broke and Enjolras couldn’t help reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Grantaire turned at the touch and rolled into his arms.

Enjolras pulled him close, wanting to keep him safe from whatever it was that was haunting him and hoping Grantaire wouldn’t hate him later for taking advantage of his state.

“I didn’t even recognize him,” he whispered into Enjolras chest. “There were so many throughout the years that they all kinda blurred together.”

The picture being painted for him wasn’t good. He closed his eyes in pain as the puzzle pieces began slotting together. “Where did you know him from?” he asked, half not wanting to know, half _needing_ to know.

“Patron Minette,” he admitted softly.

“Grantaire,” he said, pulling the omega closer to him and forcing back the anger that flared within him. He knew of Patron Minette. How could he not? They were the most infamous brothel in the city. That Grantaire had escaped from them was impressive, but it didn’t make what he had been made to do any less horrifying.

“I can’t go back,” Grantaire whispered, looking up at Enjolras with tears shining in his eyes. “I can’t.”

“You won’t,” Enjolras promised. “I won’t let them take you.”

Grantaire gave him a small smile before laying his head back on his chest. “Thank you,” he said softly, allowing exhaustion to finally take hold of him.

Enjolras watched with a heavy heart as Grantaire fell asleep. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt this beautiful man, least of all those snakes of Patron Minette.

He just wished that Grantaire didn’t have to worry about any of this. He deserved a happy, carefree life. Enjolras only wanted to give it to him.

Tbc…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to advance the Combeferre/Courfeyrac plotline in this chapter, but it just didn't happen. Next chapter, I promise :)


End file.
